From the Ashes
by Bobbie23
Summary: When Bruce never expected it to be easy to return home for a war but the past he thought he left behind when he joined the Avengers rises from the ashes of Thanos' victims. Post-A:IW. AU but some spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

**Author Note - Thanks to my wonderful beta Black Victor Cachat who writes some great stories too. For the guest reviewer who asked me to write more Brutasha after _Spies and Scientists,_ I wish I could answer you personally. Please enjoy, my plan is to update quicker as I have already written a few chapters just have a few tweaks to make. Feel free to leave a review or send me a PM.**

From the Ashes

 _"I want to run. To do what I always do, have always done, for the last five years of my life. Escape, flee into the shadows. But this time, I stand my ground. I'm tired of running." —_ _Marie Lu_ _(_ _Prodigy (Legend, #2)_ )

Chapter one – Welcome Home Banner

The road to one's happily ever after is never easy. Or at least it shouldn't be. The whole concept is a fairy tale which many rarely achieve. The best someone can hope for is being content, without regret.

Bruce Banner never considered either notion attainable for him, even when he was with Betty. The shadows his father cast upon his life taunted him even when he was in love. However, Bruce persevered because Betty made him happy, hopeful for a peaceful future. There was even talk of children, a dream he held closely to his chest despite his doubts of ever being a capable role model for a child, when he never experienced it himself.

Then came the Accident followed by years on the run, convincing him he was the monster people saw him as, and his father threatened he would become. After rejecting Betty and her help, Bruce did everything he could to cure himself so he could one day return to her. Each failed attempt destroying a part of him, leading him on a bleak path of hopelessness. At his lowest, he ate a bullet, and his green counterpart literally spat it out.

After that, Bruce managed some semblance of control over his rage monster. He doesn't know how he did it, as he wasn't doing anything different than before. Meditation, breathing, obsessively doing everything in his control to temper his heart beat. In a fleeting moment, he considered the Other Guy was giving him a break after his attempt to end it all. There were plenty of people after them, they didn't need to turn on each other.

Bruce ambled on, eventually ending up in India, and doling out medical assistance to those who didn't readily have access to it. He was never a formally trained physician but his work with biomechanics he was able to adapt his knowledge to help people with what little he had to offer. Not only for redemption but for some peace of mind to stop him obsessing over his fate. After overcoming his initial panic of potentially exposing innocent strangers to his greener half, Bruce enjoyed the meagre job at the small clinic. He was interacting with people but it was safe. He felt safe.

Enter Natasha Romanoff.

The woman who turned his life upside down. Again.

Years ago, he waltzed into her trap-shack to be confronted by the Black Widow, who, with minimal make-up to highlight her natural beauty, and a flowing red dress over her curves, embodying everything he had grown to distrust. She was here to bring him in. Introducing herself as a SHIELD representative, she didn't disappoint when she began to compliment his mind, drawing him in with science like she had with the little girl asking him to save her family. The soft warm glow illuminating her flawless fair skin. He tempered his features as he engaged her, travelling around the one-storey hut, his eyes naturally fell on the windows, the swaying curtains giving nothing away of her back up. There was no way she was bringing him in solo.

He growled tellingly about never getting what he wanted while pushing the rickety cradle. She listened, unfazed of course. She just sat there, calm, collected, confident. Her open, unaffected body language grated on his nerves, and so help him, he wanted to mess with her. She brought it upon herself, really. She caught him off-guard, it was only fair play.

He raised his voice and slammed the table when she insisted they were after the scientist rather than the monster. She drew the gun she taped under the table so smoothly as she stood, aiming at his face. Seeing the slight tremble as her finger curled around the trigger as she fought to regain control of the situation, Bruce brought his hands up in a gesture to signify his surrender, apologising even as he released a quiet chuckle at his prank. Their eyes held as she spoke into her ear piece, and Bruce was struck by the guarded vulnerability in her green eyes with hazel flecks.

Unlike other operatives who had come for him in the past which included offers of power, or honey traps, there was something different about the woman who was brave enough to face him alone. Who was good enough to convince him to reveal his monster, the side of him which doesn't need protection from the Hulk. The threat and circumstances she was describing seemed credible enough for him to begrudgingly agree to travel with her. Of course, he never really put any credence in the part where the Other Guy could stay out of it—if this was a trap the Hulk was his exit strategy.

His relationship with Natasha has developed from their first interaction in that trap shack, the thick tension caused by his antipathy toward an organisation such as SHIELD and her unwavering personification of it. There were fleeting moments when he felt a flicker of intrigue for the mysterious woman, like when she defended his offhand joking assessment of Loki being crazy. Their first _adventure_ was wrought with strain, and with the Sceptre's influence he was feeling the pressure of being in an environment where they were preparing for combat, and as the one who brought him in, she was the one who bared the brunt of his snappy comebacks especially when she tried to corral him just before Barton attacked the Helicarrier to liberate Loki. He was absolutely horrified when he had flashbacks of his greener, meaner half focusing his anger on her and chasing her through the labyrinth of corridors on SHIELD's premier craft. Though she was capable of dodging the Hulk till Thor intervened, seeing her in person when he arrived in New York was a relief.

" _So, this all seems horrible," Bruce says dismounting the motorcycle and approaching the others._

" _I've seen worse," Natasha informs him coolly._

 _Her words cause him to stop, briefly reconsider his decision to show up. He blinks, dust still covers his face from the factory which broke his fall. He truly feels… "Sorry," he says directly to her._

 _Her face as it changes quickly as she amends her words sincerely, invitingly, "No, we could use a little worse."_

Natasha Romanoff. The woman who turned his life upside down. Again.

For the better.

He never fathomed the impact she would have on his life back then, least of all during the years since. He isn't consumed by thoughts of running away or obsessively questioning whether he's an asset or a detriment to their team. He always doubted his place on field missions till they called a Code Green; twiddling his thumbs on the Quinjet even though Natasha taught him how to monitor the team through the jet's systems. If they didn't need him on standby for the Hulk, he could've done the same thing from his lab. He enjoyed the team camaraderie and living with the unique group of people after being alone and on the run for so long. Working with Tony for Stark Industries made him feel like he was contributing to the world and he would've been happy continuing with that after they found the Sceptre but then their collaboration created Ultron and everything went to hell.

He can't believe it's been two years since Ultron tried to wipe out Earth, two years since he thought running away was the answer to all his problems. It would be easy to run away except there's nowhere to hide from Thanos or his gauntlet.

Not that running away appeals to him after fighting the Mad Titan or his army, he wants to help win this fight. He needs to. And he's pretty certain the Hulk will choose to stick close to Natasha if he shows up to be given the choice. She calms both of them, neither can deny that. However reluctant Hulk is to transform, either way, Thanos spooked him and Natasha soothes him like no other.

Sitting next to her in the middle of a clearing, wearing nothing bar torn pants, Bruce is grounded by the mere sound of her breathing and the fact that she's miraculously still alive after the battle they've endured. Though he's been told it's been years, it feels like a matter of hours since they were in Sokovia about to face Ultron. Moreover, then he was distracted trying to save Asgard from Thor's sister. Now Bruce tries to focus on the present, while struggling to believe the unnatural genocide he's witnessed in a small amount of time. It's still hazy to him; Natasha changed him back moments after half the world disappeared, though Hulk allowed him to retain the memory of all those people's ashes scattering in the wind.

Looking around at the scene, the survivors are shell shocked, but reaching out to surrounding fighters to assess their fate and losses. Sam hovers by Steve, partly shielding their friend from scrutiny while the latter's usually empathic expression lost with his best friend.

Natasha draws Bruce's attention once more by running a hand through her platinum hair –briefly he wonders if it was recent change, or if she's had the look for a while, or what else may have changed – only to notice one finger having difficulty with the movement. Lifting his hand carefully not to spook her, her eyes snap to his as soon as she registers it in her peripheral, and her whole body stops. He points at her hand, and she lowers it to see it herself, noticing the damage for the first time.

Without waiting for permission, Bruce moves deliberately, taking the hand in his and his fingers examine her thoroughly with confidence and a familiarity which is belied by the light frown on his face. Natasha barely reacts as he moves the index finger, yet his can feel the break.

"Do you have any tape in your belt?"

Without saying a word, she snaps open a pocket and produces a small roll, which she hands to him. Steadying the index finger against her middle finger, he wraps her them with medical tape. He refuses to meet her gaze, and she's grateful because she can't stop herself studying him. Sitting bare chested with baggy bottoms, dust covering his face and chest, as he treats her so surely with a gentleness she's only ever experienced with him. The soft pads of his thumbs massage her other fingers once he's done, moving them carefully to test mobility.

His voice is gruff as he releases her hand and shows her the action as he asks her to do it, "Flex."

As soon as she copies him, his eyes are on her face and she's caught in his warm gaze as his hand tentatively takes hers once more to test her range of movement. His eyes don't leave her face and fights the urge to react only she's already lost that battle already by staring back at him.

Knowing them this could take a while. They communicate better with touch anyway, since it always goes to hell when one of them opens their mouth. His touch turns into a soft caress and she almost senses he may lift it to his lips to brush a kiss across her knuckles.

"How are your ribs?" He asks instead.

"My ribs?" She blinks and Bruce gestures at her torso.

"You were holding your side earlier."

"Uh, it was just from where Thanos bound me to the ground, no damage done," Natasha assures him. "What about you? He did the same to the Big Guy."

Bruce examines his bare chest, except he finds no visible marks, and the ache he feels isn't physical. "I'm fine."

"Thank you for coming back, you didn't have to," she says breaking the moment.

"What else was I going to do? Spend the rest of my life as a glorified cage fighter?" Bruce realises how flippant that sounds when her eyes narrow a fraction questioningly. "Sorry, it's a long story, Thor probably has more details than I do," he apologises before sobering further. "I would never leave you like this."

Natasha raises an eyebrow meaningfully at that and Bruce realises his poor choice of words. Last time they properly spoke, he was intent on staying out of the fight because of what it would cost him; he wouldn't be able to cope with the cost of losing control and going on a rampage amongst civilians so soon after Johannesburg, and neither would the Hulk. Bruce has enough residual awareness to realise how it affected his alter ego as Wanda's red mist lifted; he understands why Earth hates him. In a way, Bruce was right. He ended up on the other side of the galaxy trapped inside the Other Guy. Sokovia cost him dearly, not just two years of his life it seems, but Natasha as well.

"We haven't had much of a chance to talk," he starts. He knows it's probably the worst time to bring this up, yet who knows if he'll get another chance. She deserves more of an explanation than the awkward greeting they exchanged less than a day ago.

"Probably for the best," she says heavily.

"It is?" Bruce asks, his heart sinking. He knew it was a lot to ask or hope for, except he would like some sort of resolution to their dalliance. Of course, the whole situation is rather complicated. More so than with other couples. While it's been days for him, it's been three years for her; she's moved on believing she was the one who forced him to leave. She knew how pushing him would've affected him when she kissed him, and he supposes that could've been why she did it, her way of saying goodbye because she expected him to walk away from her after she forced him to transform. He's never had to time to process what he would've done if she managed to de-Hulk him after Sokovia, only that whatever anger he may have felt for her for pushing him would've passed as soon as he saw the survivors the Other Guy had helped save.

"It was never really going to happen, was it?" Her eyes implore him to agree with her, tell her she's right.

He wants to let her go on thinking he lied to her about running together, he does. It's an easy out he doesn't want or need. Call it self-inflicted torture, he wants her to hold onto the justification that he walked away from her. Only problem is that he's been thrust back into her life for the foreseeable future and he has no intention of walking away from her or this fight with everything on the line. He doubts she does either, so they're stuck with together and he can't ignore the pain he sees in her expression when he knows he's the cause.

"I wanted it to," Bruce tells her honestly. He had doubts at the time but his feelings were, are sincere. "He and I, we were running from the fight not you," he insists gently.

"Well, it's a different world now, Doc, we don't have the luxury of believing in fantasies."

She's protecting herself by cutting herself off, he realises. He gets why, he does and wishes he could convince her otherwise, except he's too familiar with self-preservation. What's worse than knowing what you want, and knowing you can never have it? Internal battles between knowing what you need to do and what you want to do, knowing they're very different things. Fear is a powerful emotion, he learnt a long time ago not to be ashamed of self-preservation, it was the only way to survive when he had no way to destroy the Hulk but he always felt guilty when it hurt others in the process. Cognizant or not, he hurt her, and he'll follow her lead with how they progress from now.

He's not presuming to know what her life has entailed for the last two years. All he knows is that the Avengers fell apart, and she and Steve have gone renegade since then –or perhaps it was Tony with his alliance with Ross— and he never expected her to wait for him; in his opinion, she's better off without him. Only he can't change the way he feels with the flip of a switch as evidenced by the way he reacted to a video message from her when he reconnected with Thor. He remembers hearing her voice so vividly when he was transforming he thought she was in the Quinjet with them, only to wake up to just Thor and for the Asgardian to inform him of their fate. At some stage he hopes they will be able to rekindle their friendship.

"Probably for the best," he repeats her words looking over his shoulder at the field they just fought on. Parts of the Hulkbuster litters the edge of the clearing from when Hulk burst from it's confines as the Mad Titan was fighting Steve. He simply didn't fit inside the suit to use it for protection against Thanos; though Bruce doubts it would have acted much of a shield considering how the Titan decimated them. The gauntlet is beyond anything any of them have encountered before. None of them will be the same after this.

He's gone, for now. Who knows if or when he'll return.

Whatever respite they have, will be wrought with grief and preparations for his return. The Wakandans are recovering their wounded while crying for T'Challa, their King. A humble man who Bruce wished to know better who welcomed them with open arms to fight for all life and was willing to sacrifice his own. The Avengers will shoulder this burden, they brought this fight here. The dead would still be dead even if they hadn't, but that's something Bruce refuses to voice. Arguably Wakanda has more people dead because of the Avengers, since they have those injured from the fight, and then that number was further depleted with the Snap. No one will appreciate the honesty right now. Everyone's going to be overwhelmed by this for a while, including the woman beside him as evidenced by her detached stare as she watches everyone try to gasp what happened here.

"I'm sorry," Bruce tells her quietly.

"I'm sorry too; I pushed you," Natasha admits wearily. Bruce starts shaking his head to cut off her confession but the snap of her eyes stops him. "I'm saying it because I need to say it; I did something you didn't want me too. I don't regret it because we needed the Hulk, I _do_ regret the consequences. But I expected it the moment I kissed you. And that's what I'm sorry for and I need you to know that."

Sighing wearily, Natasha hoists herself up, and holds a hand out to him to help him do the same. "Come on Doc, there are others who need medical attention and your bedside manner."

He trails her, murmuring to himself, "Welcome home, Banner."


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note – As I should have said before, this isn't cannon compliant with Infinity War as far as deaths. Some of the same characters died, some didn't. I'll let the story reveal who. Thank you all for the lovely reviews for the first chapter and to those who have followed and favourited.

Thanks to my beta Black' Victor Cachat for being a fantastic beta, especially after I made their job harder with a huge rewrite of this particular instalment. There's a little nod to their story Avengers: The (Alien) Sun's Going Downin this chapter. If you haven't read it, you should.

Disclaimer – I don't own, just borrowing.

From the Ashes

Chapter Two – Duty Calls

"To rise from the ashes only to have them rain on you from above." ― Karina Halle, The Lie

The morning following the battle an eerie quiet fall over the plains of Wakanda. The serene glow rising over the mountains as the new day started, bringing with it the ghosts of the massacre and everyone they've lost, who'll never see the sun rise again.

The Avengers remain, taking residence in the huts near Barnes' one – where Steve rests rather than sleeps. Bruce can't imagine anyone got any sleep last night. After they helped the Wakandans regroup where they were allowed, helping with the injured and stabilizing the structures which were damaged in the city. It was late when they retired to the huts beside the lake and washed the dust from their skin and suits.

Bruce rises wearily from the bed where he spent the night thinking of their predicament. His eyes are immediately drawn to the window and land on Steve and Sam as they sit on the steps of the former's long-lost friend's former abode. The place where he found peace. The super-soldier's shoulders sag, elbows rest on his knees as arms hang limply between his slightly spread legs. Bruce notes it's probably one of the few times he's ever seen Steve when he hasn't been standing at attention. Bruce feels for his loss, being so close to reversing everything HYDRA had done to Barnes, only to lose him to Thanos's gauntlet.

Bruce watches as Rhodes emerges from another hut, stretching before checking over his War Machine suit which has been standing sentry after he ordered FRIDAY to run it outside the huts all night. He exchanges a few words with Sam, while Steve remains silent, a flick of his hand being the only greeting he offers, and the other men allow him to do so without comment.

Unwilling to maintain his concealed observation, Bruce splashes some water on his face and changes his clothes – more borrowed ones, he notes wryly. He tidies away the bed roll he was given to rest on and checks to be sure the hut is as neat as it was when he was shown it the night before. He doesn't want to seem ungrateful for the hospitality the Wakandans have shown them. If Thanos ever returns, he is most likely to start with capital city here. Given that, Bruce knows some of his friends will want to stay and wait, and Bruce doesn't want to do anything to strain their relations with the locals.

Bruce may not be an expert when it comes to situations like this, strategizing missions isn't his forte like Nat or Steve, but he has enough experience to know what they need to do next. They need to reach out to the rest of the world to discover their fate – modern means of communication, such as the internet and normal phone lines, were down last night as a standard invasion countermeasure to prevent invading armies from monitoring their strategies so they would need to rely on older methods to communicate such as landlines and Morse code. Rebuild after Thanos's attack – New York got hit again – and preparing for the next. Personally, one of Bruce's main priorities is finding out if Tony is alive and if he can return from wherever he was taken. Despite the billionaires' words to the contrary, Bruce knows the rest of the team care about his safety too. Shuri's lab, possibly the most advanced on the planet, seems like a good place to start looking for him.

By the time Bruce is satisfied with the hut's condition, Thor, Rocket, and Natasha have joined the others, and the God of Thunder is regaling them with how they reunited on Sakaar. Bruce leans quietly on the door frame to listen.

"We came face to face in a grand arena like true warriors," Thor responds to a question from Sam, before explaining the story of how they overthrew the Grandmaster and went on the save Asgardians while destroying Asgard.

"You mean to tell me, you and the squirrely one took down the Grandmaster," scoffs Rocket pointing between him and Bruce.

It sounds like an insult, except Bruce isn't sure how to take it, considering it's a racoon saying it. So he shrugs it off and leans against the door frame.

"Yes," Thor says simply. "You've met him?"

"Not in person, yet from everything I've heard about him, the neon turd had it coming. Rumour has it he was related to the Collector. They say he took a huge cut from all wagers placed on whoever his latest Champion was. You had to catch the broadcasts off world because escaping Sakaar with your winnings is tricky business, and not exactly a pleasant ride. Tougher than any prison I've ever escaped from." The talking racoon – Bruce shakes his head, wondering how they've all gotten used to that fact so quickly – turns thoughtful for a moment. "One of his scouts tried to recruit Groot for his main attraction once and we were tempted to make some quick cash but then we heard about the huge bounty on Quill's head and decided that was the gig for us. Speaking of, whatever happened to his latest one? Saw the adverts for a big, green, ugly goon with more muscles than brains?"

Bruce feels the other Avengers turn to look at him and he registers the quick smirk lightening Steve's face, before the super soldier looks down to hide his chuckle but is given away by the slight shake of his shoulders. Even if he is the butt of the joke, Bruce is glad he is able to break Steve's grief if only for a short period.

Confused by the silence and the blank look on Thor's face, Rocket asks, "What?"

"You didn't notice him yesterday when we took on Thanos?" Sam queries.

"Nah, I was too busy being spun around by the guy with the detachable arm. Big green was here?"

"Briefly," Natasha briskly answers and folds her arms as she stands and starts to walk toward the city. "I'm going to see if we can get a message to the outside world; Barton, he needs to know about Wanda," is all she says, though Bruce can hear the real reason in her voice. She needs to know if her best friend and his family, her family, survived the cull.

He watches her go for a moment till he hears Thor reveal his secret identity to Rocket, who exclaims, "The squirrely one?!"

"What can I say?" Bruce shrugs addressing the racoon as he follows Natasha. "He got the muscles, I got the brains." Steve lifts his head and catches his eye and nods meaningfully. "I'm going to check if there's word on Tony. See you all later."

Natasha hears Bruce following her, yet doesn't turn to acknowledge or slow down to wait for him. She appreciates the company despite not wanting any. Too much time alone and in self-introspection can be a dangerous thing at times like this.

She maintains her stride through the grass as the city draws closer, trying to ready herself with every step for the potential heartbreak this conversation will bring. Aside from Clint being devastated by Wanda's death, there is every possibility Clint or Laura or one of the kids perished with the snap of Thanos's fingers. She won't let herself think about all of them dying at once, leaving her all alone. She needs her partner's advice, different from Steve's pep talks, is more guiding than an order. She agreed with Clint's decision to take the deal so he could return to his family, urged him to do so because they needed him more than the world did and vice versa. Only part of her was envious that she had no blood bond which would enable her to join them.

She hears Bruce huff with exertion as she senses him draw near. He's lengthened and quickened his stride to catch her up. Natasha doubts he'll say anything, he will simply drop into step with her to arrive at Wakanda's central base as a team, rather than separately for the same reason she wants someone to be with her. She already knows he wants a closer look at Shuri's lab. An opportunity to lose himself in science for a while will be good for him after a manic few days. It'll calm him. To be honest, she's been worried about his frantic demeanour, although she supposes he would need time to adjust after being trapped inside Hulk.

If it were before, she would be the one calming him, only now she won't let herself. Her fingers twitch. The medical tape he wrapped around them yesterday pulls tightly against the movement as a reminder.

"I'm not going to ask if you slept," Bruce starts.

"We're not strangers to sleepless nights," Natasha replies looking at him quickly. She had been exhausted, yet she laid wide awake, positioning herself to look out of the window at the night sky. Last night she was kept awake by cries. Not unusual, except these ones were not sobs of her victims in her nightmares, but those of the living who she had saved, and then failed to save their loved ones.

If they were back in the Tower, she would have been tempted to seek out Bruce in his lab, as he was also a notorious insomniac. She didn't have to explain when she turned up at his door, he instinctively knew when she needed him to make light conversation, or probe her mind deeper if anything was troubling her. Yet his company, and the background noise from his equipment, or the quiet music he played, never failed to make the sleepless night easier.

She's not able to erase the last two years, where her sleeping habits reverted, her coping method having gone a walkabout. Looking at Bruce again she wonders if his night terrors have taken a darker turn considering what he and Hulk encountered in space. "What about you?"

"I rested," he assures her with a wave of his hand. The dark rims under his eyes tell her something different.

"After a prolonged transformation, you need sleep," she pushes, internally kicking herself for the concern seeping into her tone. She is concerned though. None of them have really slept since they reunited a few days ago, and Bruce's transformation was a short time before that. He's usually drained after Hulking out for a few hours, not the years he's been gone. Till now, she assumes he's been running on adrenaline like the rest of them. Or if his body has finally gotten used to the transition it no longer takes such a toll on him.

"Yeah," he agrees with a scoff. Her eye flickers at the sound, dismissive and dark, something she hasn't heard from him in years. "How do I do that when I'm afraid I'll never wake up as me again?"

It's his biggest fear. And for a while, she alleviated it. Unfortunately, now she has no answer for him, and he can see it clearly in her expression. Instead of troubling him, he seems to lighten at the prospect that no one else has a solution to his predicament. Either that or he wants to spare her the burden of his troubles. Which is the most likely option, as evidenced by his sigh. "Sorry, I shouldn't bother you with this."

"I asked, Bruce," Natasha reminds him. She wouldn't have broached the subject if she wasn't curious or cared. She saves the speech of how it's reckless for him, as he's much more susceptible to changing when he's tired for another time. Or maybe never. At the moment, he seems safe because Hulk seems content to hide from everyone, including her.

"Thanks," Bruce smiles. "For asking."

The tension between them grows thick again. Natasha knows it's inevitable though, she's never really had a relationship like the one they had. She's not sure it can be considered a relationship either, despite how much she wanted it to be one. She liked him. She still does. One night she found herself opening up, flirting with the idea and him, to see how receptive he would be. And he flirted right back in his charming, dorky way. She'd been swept up in the night, and the easy, light, innocent and happy conversation. She probably would've bestowed a chaste peck on his cheek at the end of that night if Ultron hadn't crashed the party. Less than thirty-six-hours later, she was pledging to run away with him.

It was impulsive, unlike anything she's done before. Meticulous planning went out the window because she needed the same as him; an escape from the nightmare. Not the only reason she wanted to be with him, she cared for him and about what happened to him, still does.

She shakes her head. She's drawn to him. He makes her heady and reckless even though he's neither of those things himself. She likes it. It would be easy to fall back into what they had before.

Which is why she can't torment herself by spending time with him. She doesn't deserve it. She betrayed him by being a catalyst of his biggest fear. Who knows how long he would've been trapped inside Hulk if Thor hadn't found him? And it would've been all her fault.

"How long have you been blonde?" Bruce asks eyeing her light locks.

She tucks the strands closest to him behind her ear and purses her lips. "I needed to change after leaving the Facility and brunette was too similar to the shade I had then. Don't you like it?" She teases.

"Like I said before, I think you look great," he returns earnestly making her falter and stare at him. He holds her eyes till it becomes uncomfortable for them.

Changing the subject, she asks, "What was it like on another planet?"

"Sakaar or Asgard?"

"I guess there's more to Thor's story than a wrestling match with the Big Guy."

"Yeah, like the part where I spent the day walking around an alien planet dressed as Tony," he answers. She sends him a questioning look. "I was naked and Thor gave me the first clothes he found on the Quinjet."

"You had more clothes on the Quinjet than any of us," Natasha grumbles. Bruce has a habit of stashing clothes in places he's likely to spend time, completely understandable as she does the same thing with weapons. After she started working on the Lullaby, she also took to stashing clothes for him in her compartment during her mission prep because his would shred so easily.

"Tony likes his clothes to have a closer fit than I do," Bruce agrees despite the two of them having similar measurements. "Things got a little tight in places," he complains and Natasha smirks as he subconsciously tugs at his pants.

"Why didn't you change into yours?"

"We didn't have much time," he explains. "The Quinjet was a wreck and wasn't going to give us cover for long. We had just escaped from the Grandmaster and Thor wanted to get off the planet as soon as possible. The only part of the outfit that was passable by that point were Tony's glasses, as we have a similar prescription," Bruce grouses, reaching up to fiddle with the eyewear which is scratched and barely holding itself together after surviving all they've endured.

Natasha hides her blushing as she reaches for the pouch on her belt to pluck out an old pair of his glasses, a keepsake she couldn't let go of, which been protected all this time by the padding. Without looking at him, she hands him the delicate gold rimmed glasses.

Out of the corner of her eye she sees him study them in wonder, before lifting his head to do the same to her. She refuses to meet his gaze. Overcome with that heady feeling he provokes, and desperate to erect a wall between them and her feelings, she informs him, "None of that would've happened if I had been with him on the Quinjet."

"You don't know that. We could've both ended up on the other side of the galaxy if you had been with him." He pauses. "I don't blame you. You would've gone to Sokovia with or without me or the Hulk, it's who you are. It's why I…" he stops, correcting himself when she gives him a sharp look. "I also know how I would've felt if you had gone without me or him, and not come back."

A lump forms in her throat, cutting off any reply and he nods easily, accepting her silence as her answer. "I understand you need time Natasha, and I'll give it to you, but I can't guarantee the rest of the universe will."

The rest of their walk is in silence.

When they reach the main doors and are greeted by three members of the Dora Milaje accompanying T'Challa's mother, the older woman announces Shuri has managed to establish a secure connection to the outside world. "She's been speaking with a CIA agent who has helped us in the past, Ross."

"Ross?" Bruce gulps beside Natasha.

"Everett Ross," Ramonda elaborates.

"Coincidence?" Natasha asks Bruce as they exchange a questioning look. There are very few innocent ones in their lives. He shrugs.

Betty didn't have a brother, nor does she remember a cousin from her research. Unless Secretary of State Thaddeus Ross had a love child no one knew about, this CIA agent was no relation to the man who hunted Bruce for years like a dog. Natasha's thorough background check had turned up neither a mistress or even a dodgy bank transaction, the man was faithful to his family and the military – not necessarily in that order. His life and career were boring, regimented, until the Hulk smashed into it. Probably the only interesting thing about him, as far as Natasha is concerned.

His extended family churned out military men like cattle. Some of them fancying themselves as politicians, though he was a far from stellar in comparison to his relatives who prefer to influence things from the shadows and chose to have quiet careers.

The man is resourceful, she'll give him that. He, with solid political connections, took advantage of the state of play after HYDRA exposed themselves, and managed to use his previous experience with the Hulk and the initial intention of their experiment to create more super-soldiers like Steve to make himself seem useful with the surge of enhanced humans expressing their abilities. Public and politicians alike overlooked his failure to fulfil his objectives, and an embarrassing attack on a university campus in broad daylight, as well as one of his subordinates tearing up Harlem until the Hulk stopped him, and managed to secure him the job of Secretary of State, especially when his competition Senator Stern was arrested for being affiliated with HYDRA.

Thaddeus Ross is a loose cannon in all of this, his skills pale in comparison to his tenacity, with bad judgement, and poor vetting standards – hell, he allowed an unstable British agent to take the super-soldier serum just after meeting him. Natasha might have signed the accords, but she in no way agreed with the drivel he was touting when he met with the Avengers at the Facility over a year ago. Of course, he piqued her interest when he pointedly enquired about Bruce and Thor. With their history, she suspected he was using the Avengers to draw Bruce out of hiding. Or he had caught up with their missing hero and was holding him somewhere. Both scenarios seemed credible to Natasha, though a quick clandestine investigation proved neither were true.

Natasha doesn't know how much Bruce knows about the Accords yet – he's barely been back on the planet for forty-eight-hours – except someone will break it to him soon, and, with his history with the aging former General, she knows the news could cause him to bolt despite being safe in Wakanda. He would rather leave than blame himself for the pain to his friends caused by someone trying to capture him. The idea of it worries Natasha more than she wants to admit. Disappearing now could be more dangerous than being detained.

She eyes him for a second longer than necessary, feeling a pinch in her arm as if she really has pinched herself. Her aloof attitude might seem as though she's punishing him, but she's not. That won't solve anything or change what happened. She blames herself for the choice she made in Sokovia.

His eyes bother her the most. He can still see the real her beneath all of her layers. Like he's always seen her. From that moment in the shack in Calcutta and he knew she was an agent. Not that she was trying to hide that fact. He knew, knew, how to get her to react and subsequently play her.

"Coincidence?" The Queen Mother repeats, looking between them and snapping Natasha back to the present.

"We know another Ross who isn't as accommodating as Agent Ross sounds," Natasha explains. The woman, intuitive and guarded, nods in understanding of what Natasha is alluding to.

"My children trust this man with our nation," she says simply.

"We're sorry for your loss," Natasha tells her at the mention of T'Challa. Ramonda softens and nods.

"Everett Ross has a message for all of you from your missing comrade."

The regal woman swiftly turns on her heel and leads the way to the lab. Upon entering they are greeted by the image of a forty-ish year old, Caucasian man talking to Shuri as she tells him about the fight, and how her brother disintegrated in front of Okoye.

"Your brother was a good man, I'm sorry for your loss Shuri, but I'm also glad you and Nakia are safe," he says sincerely. As soon as he says it, his eyes divert over her shoulder to the new arrivals. "Agent Romanoff, Doctor Banner, someone's been waiting on you," he tells Natasha and Bruce as he taps a few keys his end and the computer screen splits and Tony appears in the second half inside awhat appears to be an alien craft.

"Buddy!" He exclaims with effort as soon as he sees Bruce.

"Glad you're alive Tony," his Science Bro replies.

Behind the mechanic, Peter Parker sits without his mask, his eyes dazed as he looks off into space through their craft's window. The kid, usually so meticulous about hiding his identity is too out of it to realise he's being seen by strangers. Natasha feels for him and actually misses the kid's usual hyper-enthusiasm, misses his innocence. But he survived, and it'll be one less death on Stark's conscience. For all their differences, Natasha supposes the kid could do a lot worse for a role model other than Tony Stark, the newer, more mature Tony. Natasha notes the tightness in Tony's jaw, the game-face he does when hiding how injured he is. She can see the minor scrapes and cuts on his face and can only imagine the ones he has covered on the rest of his body. She reminds herself he's alive in body, even if the state of his mind is yet to be determined.

In the pilot's seat is a blue, part cyber-enhanced alien who barely looks at the screen as she flies their craft. Noticing Natasha's look, Stark introduces them. "Blue this is Red. Red this is Blue."

"Good to see you too Shellhead," Natasha quips meaningfully, and his mouth twitches as he nods. Stark may be resilient and capable, but with Bruce's recount of his time on another planet, Natasha worried about the man who literally brought the Avengers together by giving them a home when no one else would. They may not always see eye to eye, there's always been a begrudging respect between them. And despite all that's transpired she considers him a friend.

Tony gestures towards the pilot. "She's friends with the racoon and talking tree who were with Thor the last time I saw them. If they made it to you, that is."

"I have no friends," the cyborg counters coldly without taking her eyes off the view in front of her, which Natasha can't see.

"Rocket survived, Groot didn't," Bruce reports for her regardless. The alien's face is painfully controlled as she digests the news.

"We shall enter Terra's atmosphere in less than a day," the blue alien declares.

"Nebula," Rocket says from behind them as the rest of the Avengers file into the lab. Natasha watches the alien as he takes in the scene before him, his mouth forming a grim line. "Is it just you?"

"The others perished at Thanos's hand," Nebula responds.

"We're going to land at the Facility, and swap me and the kid with Rocket if you guys can get him there," Tony cuts in, loudly clearing his throat.

"I shall bring him to you," Thor agrees.

"Where are you guys anyway? I managed to access FRIDAY, but I can't get a pinpoint on your location."

"My lab is protected from all forms of tracking systems," Shuri replies proudly. "Just know, we are in Wakanda, and safe for the time being."

"We haven't been properly introduced," Stark tells her, his eyes darting curiously around the lab which rivals his own.

"I'm Shuri."

"The Queen of Wakanda," her mother supplies to the surprise of those in the room, including the princess.

Natasha eyes the young woman who manages to hide her hesitation well to an untrained eye. Technically there is the whole ceremony to make it official, but no one would really contest it right now. It must be daunting to be named successor to the throne less than twenty-four hours after her brother's death. Though her family probably raised her to be prepared to take the throne if the possibility ever arose.

"She's smarter than both of us," Bruce stage whispers to Tony, who visibly balks at the suggestion.

"Both of us put together?" The billionaire queries.

"Probably," Bruce nods. "You should've seen the way she worked with Vision…"

Natasha folds her lips together to hide her smirk. She knows them better than to think either are bothered that a teenager might be more intelligent than they are. They're more intrigued than anything, and will likely tripping over themselves to talk with Shuri about her inventions at some point in the near future. Their willingness to talk to the young queen only overshadowed by their eagerness to work with her. Natasha may not understand everything the two scientists say or what they work on, she has always enjoyed watching them work together always in sync with the other. She thinks adding a third, just as brilliant, just as outspoken and willing to put them in their place, especially Stark, to the mix will be more entertaining.

"That's a little embarrassing," Tony mutters. "Hey, you gotten over your bout of stage fright yet?"

"Not really."

"Happens to most men when they reach a certain age. Impotency is nothing to be ashamed off."

"You're a year younger than me," Bruce points out. "And it's not exactly the same thing."

"I don't know," Tony scratches his chin thoughtfully. "Inability to perform—"

"—Tony!"

"—Stark!" Bruce and Steve warn at the same time.

"Yeah, yeah, keep the PG-rating," Tony waves them off. "Do me a favour, and check on Pepper and Happy? Also, a May Parker, lives in Queens. No one would give me a proper answer when I contacted the Facility, and I programmed a protocol into FRIDAY in case anything like this ever happened so I can't track them to protect their safety."

"Of course," Steve answers sincerely.

The rest of the conversation is kept to a minimum as Stark encounters interference, though he does clarify that it's minor turbulence rather than someone attacking them, before cutting the transmission short. A sense of relief falls over the group though, and they separate a few minutes later to continue helping the citizens of Wakanda regroup, and check on the wounded.

Natasha remains, asking Agent Ross to link her to Barton, or at least the military team maintaining his house arrest. As does Bruce though he turns his attention to the equipment, which is more advanced than even he's encountered. At least before he went to space.

Thor's simple corroboration didn't do anything to appease Natasha's curiosity; she knew Bruce hadn't been lying about his time away. The man is too honest to try and deceive her; he'd be more hurt by the mere notion than she would. If he had been hiding on Earth, he would've told her.

It's a conversation she can play out in her head a thousand times. She knows she's being distant, yet she can't help it. She isn't some petulant woman who is pissed off about a break up. She gave him up so they could save Sokovia and the rest of the world.

Now he shows up as if nothing has changed; overlooking her indiscretions in favour of concentrating on his and Hulk's. She'd rather he gets angry with her— at least she would have the chance to see how Hulk feels about her. But no. He's his usual understanding, caring self being…so Bruce.

From the moment he showed up at the Facility, she's been fighting her reaction to him. From the moment her stomach flipped rebelliously at the sound of his voice. "I think you look great."

Her head had snapped around so fast at the time she thought he might be a figment of her imagination. In the middle of everything, it was good to have him back.

She's snapped out of her reverie by the sound of Barton's voice. "Hey, partner."

* * *

Bruce hovers in the lab as the others leave with the Queen Mother. His eyes fall on Natasha naturally, as she speaks to Barton. He's not used to her being so withdrawn. Though not forthcoming, she usually has some contribution to the conversation. He wants to attribute some of it to her two years on the run, but he knows the real reason.

He turns his attention to a microscope in front of the window. Curiosity getting the better of him, he bends down to look through the eye hole.

"Don't touch anything!" Shuri scolds him, moving beside him to take the microscope away from him. Once she puts it down on the other end of the workbench, she turns back to him eyeing him meaningfully.

Bruce gulps, "Sorry." He steps back from the bench, naturally glancing at Natasha to check if she caught the exchange. His curiosity got the better of him, causing him to break the code of looking at a fellow scientists' tools within their lab without their permission. "I'm sorry about your brother too."

"My brother trusted her," Shuri tells him as she moves beside him to watch Natasha with her equipment. "You care for her very much," Shuri observes, as she looks between Bruce and the viewing window.

"I'm not sure if that's an adequate description of what I feel for her," Bruce responds distractedly, only for the princess to answer with a snort.

For two years, he was trapped inside the Hulk and he didn't even realise. Either Bruce gave up fighting him or Hulk decided it was time to take over, once and fall. It could've happened if he never heard her voice; still just as powerful after two years of absence.

She is still his touchstone. She's still capable of grounding him.

"What she does with your monster is extraordinary," the princess – correction, Queen – starts.

Bruce was expecting the question; everyone wants to know about the Hulk though he doesn't get offended by Shuri's wondering. Pure scientific inquisitiveness. He'd ask the same. The Lullaby is another quandary all together. They've never performed it in front of anyone else other than the team yet their timing yesterday was necessity as Hulk seemed anxious to transform. They had no choice except to let the fighter who stood beside them in battle to see the rather private, intimate act.

"I don't know how. After everything I tried on my own, I was too grateful to question her techniques beyond putting precautions in place for her safety."

He doesn't know if the Lullaby is sheer luck, a by-product of his feelings for Natasha, or some kind of subliminal messaging she managed to programme into him. When they developed the Lullaby, Natasha gave him full disclosure about a code phrase for them to recognise, one Hulk understood. Somehow the words "the sun's going down" don't matter as much as long as she's the one saying it.

"Since I came back, since she brought me back, he's refused to retake control with the exception of duress like yesterday or an extremely embarrassing face plant on Asgards' bridge to other worlds."

Shuri snickers. "For a fighter, you are very clumsy."

"I'm not a fighter," Bruce counters. "And only occasionally clumsy. I just think he's trying to prove a point."

"What point is that?"

"I don't know yet," he answers. Honestly, he doesn't have a clue what's going on with Hulk. He distracts himself from the view of Natasha by looking at the technology he's only dreamed of. "You really are brilliant," he tells Shuri as he moves a small black ball on the surface of the desk only for it to shimmer purple as he does so.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you yesterday," the young woman apologises.

"Don't worry, a little embarrassment keeps you humble," Bruce assures her. "Though it'll take a lot more to humble Tony Stark."

"Then I'll bring my A-game when I meet him," Shuri returns smugly as she proceeds to give him a tour of her lab. "I didn't mean to disrespect your achievements. For the western world, your inventions are ground breaking. But just because something is good, doesn't-."

"Doesn't mean it can't be improved upon," Bruce finishes for her with an understanding nod. "I completely agree."

Her lips twitch into an approximation of a smile, which is hidden as she ducks her chin as she taps a few things on her portable interface and a hologram of a car appears in front of them. Bruce walks the perimeter, tests the hologram with his hand because, unlike Tony's blue projections, this looks so real.

"Why are you staying if you don't like to fight?"

"I'm too scared to leave," Bruce explains. When he woke up half a galaxy away, after such a long time, with virtually no chance of returning to Natasha he realised there was no place he rather be. Sakaar was suited to Hulks' needs – celebrated rage, chaotic and durable – not his. "It used to be all I thought about."

"Why?"

"Destruction is a character trait I've never been able to conquer," Bruce tells her. "His and mine."

Shuri lifts her chin defiantly, answering him with experience beyond her years, "We hid from the world because we didn't want to be responsible for destroying it. It took us generations to figure out we should be a part of it in order to make it a better place.

"We are not special. We have the same problems as everyone else does. Now is not a time to hide from the world but to join with it to rebuild a new, stronger world."

"Spoken like a leader," Bruce approves.

"My brother set a good example," Shuri answers, less sure of herself than before with a comparison to the man Bruce wishes he had a chance to get to know. Natasha and the others hold him in high regard after he protected them during their time on the run.

* * *

In the following days, Bruce spends a lot of time in the lab, finding the routine and new discoveries a distraction. Shuri elaborates that her appointment to the throne could only be temporary to appease the small fraction of Wakandans who are calling for them to follow tradition and hold a Challenge Day for the many tribes. Bruce suspects they are holding off for the time being to see how Shuri performs while rebuilding the nation. Though she has trained since she was a child, like her brother, Okoye has taken charge of honing her technique in between meetings with the Elders and the people.

The young woman, full of fire and youthful exuberance, is refreshing among the dire conversations Bruce has with his friends. She reminds him a little of Tony except she's a tad more modest. Only just though. They're strangers, meeting only days ago, except she's accepted his love of science and allowed him into her lab to explore – play, rather, would be an apt description - the distraction of her life's work loosening her tongue. Sometimes it's easier to admit your deepest fears and secrets to a stranger than it is to someone who's known you your whole life. Sometimes your family is too close to you and you're afraid the truth will hurt them. Shuri doesn't want to burden her mother with her truth and Bruce feels for the fellow scientists' turmoil.

The young scientist is strong willed yet a reluctant leader, afraid more of not being able to live up to her father or brother's precedent and memory than ruling the nation because of people unhappy about a female heir.

Bruce lets her talk, offering little advice as he has no experience in situations such as this. It's her birth right and he thinks she'll grow into a great leader with time and guidance. He accompanies her in the lab, her sanctuary, giving her the escapism they both crave as they work on bits of technology and armour left behind by the Kree to find a weakness.

He spends evenings reconnecting as a team around a fire lit in a pit outside the huts. Bruce learns their version of the last two years, about the Accords and how they operated before the teams' demise. Natasha participates in the group conversation yet keeps her distance from Bruce, which he accepts and sympathises with.

Bruce keeps those stories in mind when Tony contacts them when he lands in New York. Thor greets him on his own despite Bruce wishing he was there too. Rocket takes Tony's place almost immediately, thirsty for revenge, to avoid being detained, saying they would send word if they found Thanos. But they were hell bent on avenging their friends.

Thor stays at the Facility with Tony and they contact the others in Wakanda several times a day, though it's Steve and Tony who do most of the talking. Mostly civil talk about strategy even if it's laced with tension. The two men share a quiet ceasefire in their argument while the team cling to each other during this time of uncertainty.

Three days after Tony lands in New York, his arrival and the arrangements for a memorial are announced to the world with a message of hope some PR person undoubtedly wrote because Tony stays out of the public eye apart from a few seconds where he captured by a scope lens greeting Pepper and Happy.

A week after Thanos wiped out half the Galaxy, the Avengers leave Wakanda.

Neither Thanos, nor his minions have returned.

They're summoned to the Avengers Facility for the memorial service for those turned to ash, and who died before Thanos could wipe them out. None of them want to deal with politics, or the hypocrisy which means they will be congratulated in one sentence and chastised in the next. Steve was the most reluctant to leave; it may be quiet, but Thanos could return at any moment. Nor does he want to expose any of them to government who've been searching for them for the last two years. The only upside Bruce can see is that it's reopened the lines of communication between him and Tony. The two of them have spent a lot of time on the phone, from organising a defensive strategy for the planet, to safe travel plans to the funeral, and a promise of good faith that they will make it through the memorial without being detained.

Shuri, as the new Queen of Wakanda, accompanies them to represent the Wakandans, and she plans to return to what's left of her family and nation to look after during this catastrophe as soon as the memorial ends. Standing side by side with the others in the front row, Bruce listens the last strains of the National Anthem, as the massive marble flag stones are revealed detailing those missing and presumed dead after the war. They all take in the millions of names etched onto the surfaces. Bruce knows more names will be added. Officials have only named those based on witness testimony; those who were alone when they died will be deemed missing till the government has gone through the due process to verify there is no sign of them at all.

He feels exposed in the front row with nowhere to look, except up at the politicians on the platform. It feels like they're in front of a firing squad, which, based on Steve's version of the last two years, is probably an apt description. Behind the President and other State Governors, Ross scowls at them. Bruce had taken note of the Secretary of State's pause and cold glare as soon as he emerged from the Quinjet behind Steve, Sam, and Natasha.

Bruce senses Natasha move rather than sees her as she leans into him. "If there was one guy you'd want to turn to ash, it'd be him," her low whisper sounds in his ear so no one else hears her.

"Yeah, but when do we ever get what we want?" He murmurs back, glancing over to see her eyes spark, as her chin bobs a tad even if her sombre expression doesn't react. Truthfully, he doesn't really want to inflict that fate on anyone. Despite everything, he knows however estranged Betty and her father are, she would mourn him, and Bruce doesn't want her to be hurt.

Natasha glances at him when she senses his gaze still on her. She returns his stare for a beat, the light leaving her eyes. His stomach quenches as it's probably the only reaction he's gotten out of her this last week. Even though they've all been busy dealing with the chaos, she's avoiding him. Aside from her joke seconds ago, they've barely spoken beyond basic exchanges and then they were only when there were others in the room. The woman who is currently dodging him so effectively she doesn't seem like she is. Whenever he thinks there may be a perfect moment to clear the air with her, she is one step ahead of him and manages to engage in another conversation with someone else before he makes a move toward her. She's pre-empting him so easily, that at one point he thinks she's reading his mind, not the first time the thought has crossed his mind. If he didn't need to talk to her, he'd find her effortless finesse amusing. Bruce is grateful she's finally broken her silence, especially today. Her mere presence, and the confidence she exudes, is enough to quell any lingering fearful reaction Ross provokes in him.

Lethal, sarcastic, intelligent, kind. She is an enigma to him, one he wants to keep unravelling.

He hasn't known her to be this closed off since they first met, a stark contrast to how open she was with him in the days before he unwittingly left this world behind. He doesn't expect anything from her, it's clear she's moved on, yet he still owes her. For the sake of closure which he knows is one-sided and selfish on his part. He wants a chance to apologise; he doesn't deserve it because it'll probably make him feel better than her.

The music fades, though continues on a loop as the President steps forward to the podium to address the thousands gathered before him.

"We are gathered here today to celebrate the lives that were lost a week ago today. No one can comprehend the millions of lives that were taken, or how it was possible. We're in an age where the Universe is coming to us and I would like to believe," the President pauses as Thor's gaze lifts to meet his. Bruce wonders what words were exchanged during Thor's time at the Facility for the President to falter, what doubt had been cast over intergalactic support. "No, I am certain we have allies out there who want justice for the massacre which took place.

"Early figures indicate that Earth's population has halved, as was the supposed intention of the being who carried out the attack on Wakanda a week ago today. The military and other agencies are working around the clock to identify those lost in the war. I have been told this atrocity was orchestrated by the same being who was behind the Battle of New York years ago when the Chitauri invaded the city. It just proves how long he has had this planned for. I commend the way we as a nation has behaved, especially in the face of confusion, panic and chaos. We are angry, and I understand how frustrating it is to wait for us to catalogue the damage to our nation and those across the world."

That was a polite way of phrasing it, Bruce thinks. While they were in Wakanda, Sam monitored the media reports of vigils and ceremonies held across the world. People directed their fury at military, police, anyone they think should have protected them from something like this, and it took a week for them to realise no one could prepare for something this. For the most part, the public seem to have moved through the stages of grief, coming together peacefully for the acceptance phase during these large memorials across the world. Officials have offered words of comfort, rallying their support for the future in dealing with these new threats, without having to deal with people living in fear.

"But the blame lies with one individual. Thanos."

He pauses and looks out over the sea of faces, the silence and tension coming off them in waves. The president clears his throat and looks at his notes before readdressing the crowd.

"I would like to thank those who fought him face-to-face on our behalf in Wakanda, and across the Universe to prevent this from happening. I don't consider it a failure, far from it. They were prepared to give up their lives to save ours."

Bruce can't distinguish the murmurs in the crowd whether they agree or not, yet he knows regardless, the Avengers and company blame themselves for falling short, and surviving when others didn't. They're not at the stage of placating themselves with the fact 'they tried,' and he doubts they will ever be.

"As a sign of our gratitude, with the backing of the United Nations, all previous charges have been dropped for Captain Steve Rogers, former para-rescue-man Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, and based upon statements from Wanda Maximoff, and those previously named and others absolving him from any responsibility for the events in Johannesburg, Doctor Bruce Banner."

Bruce looks down the line at that, with Tony and Rhodey at the end, Peter and Thor next to him, Steve and Sam between him and them. They all return his look of gratitude with a simple nod. Before he can do the same with Natasha and Barton on the other side of him, his eye catches Ross on stage folding his arms with a slight huff. A nudge to his hand is enough to stop him from fixating. He turns his head to Natasha, who is responsible. A slight shake of her head gets him to drop it and refocus on the President.

"One hope I have is that this tragedy brings our great nations together, uniting us against a bigger threat that none of us can deal with alone. We will survive this if we work together. I believe knowledge and experience will give us a way to combat what has happened to Earth. The Avengers, who thwarted Thanos's first attack on New York, have that knowledge and experience. They are our best line of defence right now. We will be triumphant and have our justice."

He looks at the front row directly, all of whom tense under his gaze.

"I stand by the fact that everyone should be held accountable for their actions. While some of this team have been considered fugitives for some time, I have no doubt their intentions have always been honourable, protecting the innocent where they can. They proved this by coming to our aid when we needed them most, and I hope they keep doing so in the future. I am not making any assumption or impositions, I don't expect them to draft themselves back onto the frontlines, but I am inviting them to work with Homeland Security in the coming days to play a part in reorganizing our defences to combat with similar attacks in the future."

His final statement is met with clapping from the politicians and crowd. They have their heroes back, or at least tasked them with that fate by offering them up as sacrifices. None of the Avengers would've refused the request, they wouldn't be here if they would, except the President is forcing an obligation on them in front of the public without consulting them privately first. It's that kind of low tactics which they all abhor. Bruce looks around at the crowd, expecting someone, anyone, to object, only no one steps forward. Photographers and camera crews aim lenses at them, yet the Avengers remain stoic to the attention.

Bruce resists the urge to cast a glance down the line at his teammates, a sense of foreboding over coming them. Like a call to duty. Or standing in front of a firing squad.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author Note – I am very aware this chapter and the last are detail heavy and long, but I couldn't find an appropriate place to shorten them. Thank you all for reading and the sweet comments.**

 **Special thanks to my beta to Black Victor Cachat.**

From the Ashes

Chapter Three – Earth's Mightiest

 _"The world's flattery and hypocrisy is a sweet morsel: eat less of it, for it is full of fire. Its fire is hidden while its taste is manifest, but its smoke becomes visible in the end. " ― Rumi_

Not long after the public ceremony celebrating those they lost, while the public and officials leave, the Avengers duck out of the lime light and return to the Avengers Facilities' airfield to say goodbye to the friends who looked after them since the battle a week ago.

Bruce stands beside Shuri as the large ramp at the rear of the Wakandan vessel lowers. The other scientist watches the gears and technology, her mind obviously working on how to improve the system during her reign. Bruce hopes it'll be a long one and considers Wakanda lucky to have her.

He's going to miss her company, in and out of the lab. Her lively commentary too. Her enthusiasm only diming whenever she compares her decisions to those her brother may have made if he were still alive. Still, she is determined to see through her duty.

Bruce wishes that in time, she will see that she is just as capable as her brother was, and her people accept her for the leader she is, rather than the replacement for the one they wanted. Given the outspoken advisors who have guided the royal family for generations, he knows she will have good advisors who will let her make balanced decisions.

A weird feeling settles over the Avengers and Wakandan representatives as they say goodbye to their hosts for the last week. Friendships strengthened after all that transpired in the week since Thanos attacked.

"You can always return with us," Shuri offers Bruce, while Natasha speaks with Okoye just to the monarch's right.

"Tempting," Bruce smiles, yet then he gestures behind them to Steve and the other Avengers still in their dress suits. "We don't want to cause tension between our countries by going back with you. There's a good chance they will take it as us ignoring their pardons, or whatever they just offered us." Bruce thinks the Government think of it as an apology, like they are telling the public, except it comes with an obligation. They can rescind the pardons at any time they like. Probably not the best mind-set when going into negotiations but it's better to be cognizant of it. Premeditated or not, accidental or not, they will have to curb their tactics to toe the Government's line, so they can stay free. "If we want a way to rebuild connections with the Government, we need to be here to do it."

"Fair point." Shuri considers it for a moment. "The offer still stands if you ever need it."

"I appreciate it, we all do." Bruce swallows and looks around at the group spread across the tarmac. "I'm also grateful for what you and your brother did while we were separated; for protecting and arming them when they needed it."

He knows Natasha, Steve and Sam would've survived their time on the run on their own, but he appreciated that time was made easier by the ally they made in T'Challa. Bruce can't think of another scientist who could've achieved what Shuri had with Barnes after everything HYDRA put him through.

"It was an easy choice once my brother discovered the truth," Shuri explains. Okoye clears her throat, signalling it is time to board the jet. Shuri bows her head though keeps her eyes on Bruce, bright and joyful, teasing. "It has been an honour to meet you, Bruce Banner."

He copies her, barely managing to keep from laughing. "The honour is mine, Queen Shuri," he says with a good balance of humour and sincerity. He meets Natasha's eyes over her shoulder, her lips quirking with approval.

The young queen does the same with the other Avengers before boarding, exchanging a 'we will rock you' hand signal with Tony at the same time as she does. Till Okoye pins the billionaire with a stern raised eyebrow and the hand signal turns into a lame wave. Yeah, the whole team will miss her.

* * *

Bruce looks around at the small gathering of people congregating in a common room at the Avengers' facility. He wants to think of it as new, except it's only new to him not everyone else. It was still being built when he left and the brief tour when he met with the team and they were focused on Thanos' imminent invasion does not count. The original Avengers mingle with new ones, who despite being younger, are all seasoned in their own right when it comes to their abilities. If any of them notice the tension between him and Natasha, no one is calling either of them out over it. It's only been a week since he arrived back on the planet, he expects one of them to pull him aside any moment now and chew him out for taking off without so much as an explanation. He's fixating, but only because she's important to him, and there's no way can leave this unresolved if the team is intent on going their separate ways in a matter of hours.

Their own private memorial had much less fan-fare, and a lot more alcohol than the one outside. He can see the crowd filing out from where he stands by the window. He abandoned his scotch on an end table after taking a sip following the toast led by Thor to their fallen friends and family. Then discussion descended into talk about the Presidents' request.

"Did you know they were arranging pardons and asking to fight for them after the Accords?" Steve aims his accusatory question at Tony who seems unsurprised by it or the tone.

Bruce hangs back, not out of avoidance, just to observe as everyone else seems to snap to attention. Natasha exchanges a quick look with Barton, as they look poised to intervene if need be, and the atmosphere frizzled with tension, and he wonders how their dynamic deteriorated to this point. He heard it was bad, Tony admitted as much himself, but Bruce figured he was being overly dramatic.

"No, except it's not much of a leap considering the shit storm we're in," Tony monotones back. He sips his third drink since they retired to the private quarters, which don't seem very private to Bruce. The new Avengers' facility may be theirs but it's essentially a military base used by others. Their privacy is limited. Tony may have put the personal quarters on lockdown earlier, there is certainly an override protocol, which Bruce fully expects some official to use to gate crash their personal wake. "We are Earth's mightiest after all." Tony pauses and drains his glass. "It's not like any of us will stand down if they tell us to anyway."

Steve deflates at the lack of bite in Tony's comeback, and the tension disappears just as quickly. "You're right, but let's not make this another grudge match," Steve apologises. "If we're going to do this we have to figure out how to work as a team again."

"That's never been the issue," Tony says pointedly.

He's right. As a team, the original Avengers, work well together, and have never had an issue coordinating in a field situation, not even during the initial the attack on the Helicarrier and then hours later in New York. They shared a common goal of redemption and making the world a better place by protecting it, which pushed to work fluidly together. As with every team, their problems stemmed from personality clashes. Thor, Barton and Natasha were fairly easy going, their competitiveness stemmed from banter; Bruce didn't really get involved unless it was something light hearted jesting or meaningless.

Steve and Tony, on the other hand, took the concept of competing with each other – or at least they could rile each other into taking their competitiveness to another level. Their tension, stemming from Howard Stark's gushing over Captain America and constant comparisons, reached its peak while he was in space over the Accords and the revelation over Tony's parent's death. Though they were getting along before Sokovia, eventually gaining a mutual respect for one another, Bruce knew their friendship was fragile and almost anything could cause a rift between the two. He never expected it to be so drastic as to cause a rift in the team. Then again the Accords, controversial and ill worded despite the intentions, would've caused some of them to fear for their lives – rightly so – and their fight or flight response would've kicked in.

"Then maybe you and I should figure this out before we involve everyone else," Steve returns quietly. Tony shrugs and rolls his eyes at the same time and drains his glass.

"Clear the base till we know what they have in mind?" Tony checks and is immediately met with people talking over one another to reject their idea. Till Steve steps to the middle of the room and agrees with him.

"It's a solid plan," Steve assures them.

"We signed up for this, we should be here for the briefing," Sam argues.

"And you will be," Steve placates his friend. "I want to be sure they're on the level with the pardons. I want to make sure they're not hiding anything from us before risking anyone else. No secrets, full disclosure."

"How is that risk any different from being here today?"

"Because we can walk out of here as a group," Steve points out. "We can't do that when we come back."

"I'm not just going to leave you here," Sam argues. "Thanos could come back at any time."

"Sam's got a point," Rhodey speaks up.

"Nebula says he's gone to ground, there's no sign of him anywhere and his kids all died. She's determined to rip apart the galaxy to find him," Tony monotones from the back, and Bruce starts to move along the outside of the room to his friend to prevent him from drinking any more alcohol. The lack of hyperbole is beginning to worry him.

"So what? We should assume he's done, and he'll never return?"

"He achieved what he intended by wiping out half the universe," Thor booms from where he sits next to Barton. "I shall take my leave soon to reunite with Rabbit to confirm these rumours. There are still Asgardians out there, I need to see if they survived Thanos' cull."

"Don't get side tracked by taking this on solo. Don't need a lone wolf when we have a pack," Tony advises. "He's been playing us all since the start."

"I will send for you when I have word," Thor promises. No one voices anything about revenge, or it being a possible suicide mission. Which is potentially what they've signed up for. Steve has a good point about taking some time to be with the ones they love, before returning to a fight they probably won't come back from.

Bruce skirts the edge of the kitchen island, casually moving the bottle of whisky to the counter before Tony even reaches for it, standing in front of it to block the latter's access. He wouldn't normally do it, yet he's identifying a lot of Tony's PTSD triggers. Tony frowns at the move, but refrains from commenting, apparently agreeing with Bruce's assessment. Pepper throws him a grateful look from the other side of Tony for saving her from having to intervene with her boyfriend's drinking.

"We have to be ready when that call comes," Steve agrees. "Take whatever time we have to prepare for the fight. Put your affairs in order. That also means taking time with families, people we care about before we reunite as a team." Barton shifts beside Thor, his face pensive. "By then I hope to have a better idea of what the President and the United Nations are planning for us, or at least how they want to involve us with preparing for another invasion."

That seems to appease the crowd, and they break off to smaller groups to start saying their goodbyes. In the midst of the shuffling group, Bruce catches Natasha's eyes fleetingly only for her to avert her gaze too quickly for his liking. He wonders how she can be so close, yet feel further away than she was when he woke up on Sakaar.

"You're sticking around right?" Tony says sidling up to him. "No more jaunts across the universe? Even if Thanos doesn't return, you're staying here?"

"I'm grounded on Earth for the foreseeable future. And that goes for you too," Bruce returns. As much as Sakaar loved the Hulk, he couldn't deal with the stimulation which freaked him out more than fascinate him. "This is home, and I'd rather spend the rest of my life hiding from the authorities here, than out there with no idea what is going on."

"Look, Barton needs to go home to talk this over with the wife. As for the kid," he gestures at the teenager who has been following him around like a lost puppy. The kid, or Peter as Bruce has been told, immediately raises his hand to give a little wave before he balks at the gawky move and lowers his hand as he flushes bright red. "Yeah, he has a curfew he and I have to stick to," Tony finishes awkwardly. Bruce scrunches his brow and Tony shrugs, "His aunt is scary. I'm going to start dropping people off in the jet. Want to tag along?" Tony asks. "I have lots of questions about your time as a champion prize fighter."

"Not much to it beyond that," Bruce replies. "The Other Guy was the main attraction till Thor turned up." That feels like such a long time ago. His gaze travels the room and he find the God of Thunder talking to Barton, while Steve and Natasha talk a short distance away. Figuring she'll probably travel with the archer to spend time with the family before returning to the Facility, he shakes his head. "I'm going to stay here, if it's all the same."

"Actually, I'd rather drop you somewhere else," Tony explains carefully. "Cap's right. We need to make sure these pardons are on the level, especially yours since there was some dispute from a particular someone on Capitol Hill concerning our statements about Johannesburg. Then Maximoff gave them a demonstration of what she was capable of. I want to make sure this isn't a life sentence for any of us."

"Whatever way you look at it, that's exactly what this is Tony. The scenery might be a little nicer than your typical prison, but we just got handed a life sentence. Pardoned or not, how's it going to look if we turn down the President?" Bruce pauses. "You know I'm right, although it's not like we haven't signed up for this is in the past."

They all volunteered to join the Avengers. They did it with the assurance that they could walk away at any time, secure in the knowledge that if SHIELD tried to stop them the others would take offense. Now that is not an option; they will be fugitives.

"Still, might be good for you to make yourself scarce for a few days while Rogers and I figure this out. We may not need anyone else if it becomes clear Thanos is gone, then he and I can work on guaranteeing both our rights and ability to do things, without you if need be. No need for others to put their life on hold if we can get away with holding the fort with just me and the Old Man."

"And I was under the impression you missed me," Bruce jokes lightly.

"More than you know Buddy, more than you. But we'll go over that later. Pick a place, I'll make the arrangements. Just don't leave the planet," Tony quips heavily with a pat on his back. Bruce hears all the things he doesn't say; the broken struggle behind his words.

"I might hitch a ride with Thor after all," Bruce jokes thoughtfully before adding, "You and Steve going to be okay on your own?"

"Are we ever?" Tony shrugs.

* * *

"You're sure you want to stick around," Steve checks with Natasha for what feels like the tenth time since she stated her intention to stay, which was mere minutes ago when he approached her.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily Rogers. I won't be in the compound, but I'll be close. I'll be at the end of the phone if, or should I say when, trouble finds you," Natasha fires back lightly. Her eyes travel the room, inadvertently landing on the one brooding figure in the kitchen area beside Stark.

Steve takes full advantage of her mistake of her gaze lingering on Bruce for a beat too long. "Give the guy a break Nat," the super-soldier advises. "For us it's been two long years since Sokovia, for him it's been a matter of days."

She knows that logically, only she can't let go of the disappointment. The dead weight of the hole his presence left inside of her reappeared when Bruce did days ago. "Give him a break like I'm giving you?" Steve looks at her quizzically, trying to figure out what he did to piss her off. To be fair, she's been more mindful of Bruce, so she hasn't been avoiding Steve, and he may not have realised that she knew what he had done the night they reunited with the scientist in the briefing room a few floors down. He honestly looks baffled so she takes pity on him. "Bruce called you about Vision, you never said anything, you never warned me he was back," she whispers harshly.

Steve twitches and grimaces as he lowers his voice to match hers. "I wanted to gage a real reaction, not one which was built on anticipation," he tells her honestly.

"You didn't think I could compartmentalise?"

"That's not it," Steve promises. "I didn't mean to interfere. There's already so much tension in this team, which is on me and Stark, and it creates a ripple effect. We can't have everyone ready to snap each other with so much as a word out of place. I wanted to make sure there wasn't going to be something else to set the team off." He pauses. "I'm sorry for keeping it from you. Though, it was kind of nice in the middle of everything, to know he still thinks you look great even if it was a little awkward."

"Of course it was awkward with all of you gawking at us. It wasn't the right time," something which continues to be a tradition for them. Their timing is awful, delaying the conversation they should have had. Then if they were going to die anyway, what would have been the point.

"We should have given you some privacy," Steve tells her. "I'm sorry Nat, forgive me?"

"Kind of," Natasha relents. His reasons make sense but she doesn't think he completely understands her point; he should have told her. "For future reference, tell me. Because I would've told you if it was the other way around and it was Peggy we were meeting instead of Bruce."

"Fair point," Steve concedes with a solemn nod, finally get her message "Whatever you decide, whatever you want, talk to him first. Don't just dismiss what you have with him."

"Had," she corrects. He shakes his head.

"Have," he reiterates. "You were happy to see him even if you're now avoiding him. You've missed him. You never said anything but you weren't as open as you were when he was around. At least you don't have to wonder what about why he left anymore, he didn't intend to leave. I know you thought it because of you but I believe him when he says he was coming back for you. He never had a choice or a way home Nat. When he did, he stepped up even though the Hulk was being difficult. Banner's a good guy, and it's pretty obvious that nothing's changed for him when it comes to you."

Natasha exhales softly. It has been difficult to stay away from him, using the team as a barrier when it was necessary to interact. She's always found his manner endearing, especially when he's doing nothing out of the ordinary. She's watched him over the last week, she couldn't help it. Whether he was with Shuri who was showing off her lab to him and taking the girl's mind off losing her brother, or if he was talking to Stark over a video link, his caring always came to the forefront. Just like today when he stepped between Stark and the whisky bottle; his style may be subtle, but it's effective.

"Slim chance that we won't need you guys back here," Steve proposes lightly.

"Yeah, except what happens when the politicians need to act on public demand, and have to switch from preventative measures to proactively hunting Thanos down for 'justice'? I'm not saying we shouldn't, but it's on the cards."

"Then Stark and I will make the call," Steve promises.

"How's that gonna go without me as a referee?" She teases lightly.

"Sam and Rhodes are staying to separate us if need be," he admits. "Take some time, head out with Barton, figure this out with Banner, just make sure you have a head start if they change their minds about these pardons."

Natasha's not entirely happy about leaving them and not being told the details first hand, but she trusts Steve to keep her informed of developments. She doesn't really want to turn up at the farm with Clint, not that she wouldn't love a visit. She's missed Laura and the kids while she was on the run, and supported his decision to take the plea deal to be with his family. She already knows what she's going to do if asked to fight. Clint has to make this decision with them on his own, and she doesn't want to be swayed from hers by them either. Cooper and Lila are old enough now to understand what's going on, and will have an opinion on whether their dad leaves them once again to defend those who had made them all prisoners in their own home.

"Alright," she agrees with a nod.

"With Banner?" Steve prods.

Making herself scarce for a while won't be an issue, and it would probably be better if Bruce was elsewhere when Ross sweeps in to try and take over the meetings which will inevitably take place in the coming days. It was pretty evident to her during today's memorial that he disagreed with the President's decision. Unfortunately, for all his patriotism, he is the kind of guy who will do everything he can to railroad the proffered token gesture to the Avengers of dismissing all charges in exchange for their help with whatever preventative, defensive measures the world feel it needs to stop this kind of attack happening again. Though Natasha personally doubts any preventative measures they come up with will be that effective against something like Thanos's gauntlet, but this initiative is really about making Earths' remaining inhabitants feel safe.

"Yeah," Natasha sighs. "Like you said, we have our own ripple effect to take care of."

Asking Bruce to tag along won't be an issue, except it'll open her up to giving him explanations he deserves, yet she's not ready to give. She thinks of her immediate plans and wishes it would be a solo journey, except there's no way she's exposing or discussing their relationship prior to his absence in a place where Ross has a huge influence over.

Without another word, Steve nods his head in the direction of the kitchen and leaves her alone so he can approach Stark and Bruce, quietly discussing their plan to deal with the politicians, and each other.

Not wanting to leave herself open without anyone to talk to, Natasha sits herself in the open spot on the couch beside Thor and Clint on the sofa, as her partner and the God of Thunder get reacquainted.

"How is your family? I heard your enforced seclusion has been difficult to endure."

"With these pardons, it's done," Clint replies with sigh of relief. "We're done," he adds as an after-thought.

"You're not re-joining the Avengers?" Thor clarifies.

Barton shakes his head. "Nah, I'm going home to my wife and kids. Try to salvage some of the freedom we lost the last few years. They need to know they matter if anything like this happens again, and we don't survive it."

Natasha already knows he's spoken to Laura and the kids before leaving them to attend the memorial. Her contact with them all has been virtually non-existent since he took the plea deal, and when she did get a hold of them, she only used methods those watching him couldn't detect; it was safer for them. Still, she misses the family which adopted her as a sister and aunt years ago, and the separation has been hard on all of them; creating a sense of detachment from them she never expected to or ever let herself prepare for.

"And I've been told to tell Aunty Nat to stop by for an extended visit, because the whole family has missed her," he tells her with slight smirk.

"I miss them too," Natasha replies, thinking of the last time she held the three kids or listened to Laura as she told Clint off for sneaking a cookie from the batch she was baking. She's missed most of Nathaniel's life, unlike Lila's when visits were at the very most months apart. "I hope for your sake, retirement actually sticks this time."

"Me too," her partner drawls, accepting her silent decline to his invitation. She'll visit the family soon, just not yet.

She doesn't begrudge him his well-earned peace. He's paid his dues ten-fold just by being a mentor to her, and then Wanda. The guy knows how to spot people in need of his gentle guidance, and once he decided someone was worth the effort, they were stuck with him. Something she is eternally grateful for. His intervention all those years ago is a debt she'll never be able to repay, beyond making sure he makes it home to his family.

"How long until you return home my friend?" Thor asks.

"Few hours, I guess," Clint explains. "I can't stay too long. I need to check the house to make sure the military have removed all of the ("latest"?) bugs they planted during the house arrest to keep me on the property. Stark's gonna make the rounds, drop off that kid who followed him to the other side of the galaxy, then me." Thor nods, a little disappointed. "But I do have time to listen to how you hooked up with the Hulk on another planet. That's one heck of a coincidence."

Natasha almost rolls her eyes at her partner for his tone and for the conversation starter he chose, yet she doesn't want to bring their attention to her. She's aware of the details. Each time she's heard Thor repeat them to Steve, Sam and Bruce at various times this past week, a lump rises to her throat.

"A fortunate one, I assure you. I met Hulk on a planet named Sakaar," he booms joyously, obviously ready to regale them with the story. "He was the reigning champion in the arena where he was fighting to entertain others. My father was dead, Mjolnir had been destroyed, and my sister, Hela, I have a sister you know," he adds as if getting used to the idea himself. "Had, rather. Was contesting my place as the ruling heir of Asgard and took the planet and people hostage. It was a fortunate time to see a familiar face."

Barton catches her eye quickly but she gives no outward reaction. The idea of the Big Guy being held like some sort of attraction similar to circus freaks, or like a fighting dog makes her stomach churn. The Big Guy is worth much more than that. So is Bruce, and she can imagine the torment he's going through after being trapped inside of the Hulk for more than two years. His biggest fear is being trapped inside the Hulk forever and the last two years makes that fear a real possibility, just like hers is being recaptured by those who trained only to be reprogrammed to do their bidding.

She's always been envious of Bruce's lack of awareness during his transformations, because she wishes she was able to black out what she had done while she was under the Red Room's influence. He's always seen the lack of information as a torment, rather than a reprieve, which is why he obsesses over the news coverage of the Hulks' past rampages for any insight into the incidents, grimacing when a bit of stray rubble collides with a bystander. Now, however, he doesn't have the opportunity to do so, and is likely torturing himself over what the Hulk did while he was in charge for all that time. The Hulk's current silence, and reluctance to transform, is probably adding to that.

She's wanted to go to him over the past week, an impulse which was difficult to quell.

While he was trying to help others with their grief, and without being too imposing, or sharing his own with them, Bruce's quiet, introspective suffering drew her to him. Not for the first time does she wish she could forgive herself for pushing him, and ease both their pain which has built up during his absence yet she won't allow herself the comfort he'd give her. She forced the Hulk's hand and he left.

Unfortunately, she's not prepared to talk it through, nor give Bruce the opportunity to shoulder some of the blame for her indiscretion. If she does, she's afraid she'll admit to spending guilt-ridden sleepless nights searching for any clue to his whereabouts. Or she'll admit the real depth of her feelings she's hidden beneath her stony expression this past week. She doesn't want to think about how she would feel if Bruce and the Hulk had been killed by Thanos, crumbling to dust in front of her without knowing she still cares.

Because trust is the root of her problem.

The lullaby is based on it, exposing a mutual vulnerability and trusting the other with it. Two years is a long time, and with everything she presumed during that time, it's hard for her to switch off the doubt in her mind. She opened herself up to them, let them get under her skin and into her heart with their simple unassuming way, which made them all complacent. She missed them dearly, misses them still even though they are now only a few feet away but she can't allow herself to cross the distance again. She can't open herself up like that again. Logically she knows they were trapped in space with no way of returning, just like she knows the Hulk intended to leave without her, whether Bruce had a say in it or not. She also wants to understand Hulk's reasons for leaving her yet the green giant is reluctant to materialise unless absolutely necessary, and she wonders if he's hiding from the world; herself included.

For now, he's back and she can be angry at him and herself, because she's afraid to trust herself with him without making the same decision. The mission will always come before him or his needs.

Her words to him on the battlefield while he was tapping up her fingers were cruel, sharp, designed to keep him at arm's length. She didn't mean them, not entirely anyway. There's always some element of truth to the best lies. She discovered her truth through hindsight, about their promises uttered in the spur of the moment in the Barton's spare room. The events after Ultron would've eventually drawn them back into the fray, probably leading to a life on the run, or joint incarceration.

"Ten bucks says he kicked your butt," Clint's joke brings her back to the present, and they both look to Thor for the answer.

"Until we have the opportunity for a rematch, I maintain it was a draw," the blonde man answers with a cocky smile. Clint snickers while Natasha just smirks. "But I almost had him."

"My money's still on the Big Guy, even with your new axe," the archer fires back eyeing the newly forged weapon at Thor's side.

There's a lighter atmosphere sitting with these two, something that's been missing from the rest of the team since the original six went their separate ways after dismantling Ultron, something she's yearned for. Yet she feels the need to clue the God in on the state of how they're viewed by Earth.

"I doubt you'll be allowed to do that here, Thor. We don't need you two setting off politicians by going at each other, even if it is to settle a friendly tie breaker. We did that while you were away."

"It doesn't need to be here on Earth. Besides, you humans and your Earth are far too delicate for us to test the true limits of our capabilities. Banner and the Hulk are welcome to accompany me to discover what has come of Thanos and my people. The Asgardians hold both in high esteem after their role in the fight against Hela, and the resulting evacuation. They will always have a place amongst my people if they so choose," Thor replies amiably without realising the effect they have on his audience.

Clint glances at Natasha out of the corner of his eye only for her to ignore him. "I guess you'll have to ask them," Natasha says neutrally.

"I have," Thor continues, before turning his attention to Barton who intervenes on Natasha's behalf.

"Man, you are not helping," Clint stage whispers into his ear away from Natasha. "Learn to read the room."

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder, Darcy used to tell me that," Thor responds just as gently, proving he wasn't talking naively or with malice. He's a romantic at heart. She can see him watching her and she realises he's trying to disarm her with his casual attitude to gage her response to the prospect of losing Bruce once again. She appreciates his technique though it would only work on people outside of this room. "Besides I was not the one who had to be told about their affection for one another."

"Dude, I still think I knew before Banner did," Barton fires back.

"How long till you leave?" Natasha asks, giving neither of them the satisfaction of responding to their conversation. She pushes herself off the sofa, toying with the idea of stealing a few minutes of privacy in the bathroom or disappearing with a car from the parking lot.

"Not for a few days, as I wish to ascertain what measures your leaders are planning to implement to defend your planet from another attack."

Natasha sends him a brusque nod, and walks away, only for Thor apologise to Clint before following her into the secluded corridor leading to the private quarters, stopping outside of her old room.

* * *

Bruce watches Natasha stalk from the room, Thor hot on her heels, distracting him from the neutral but strained conversation between Tony and Steve. He catches Barton's gaze, who lifts his chin slightly in his partner's direction, silently advising Bruce to follow her. He's about to excuse himself when he realises the entire exchange has been seen by the Super-Soldier and the billionaire, who are looking at him as if they are about to impart some of their limited wisdom when it comes to relationships.

Before he can voice his objections, Tony beats him to it. "Have you spoken to her at all? Or are you just letting her run away?"

"We've been a bit busy Tony," Bruce bites back, looking to Steve for any kind of help. Unfortunately, this is apparently something both he and Tony wholeheartedly agree on.

"None of us know how this will pan out, we could be gone tomorrow-."

"With a snap of fingers," Tony breaks in. Steve shoots him a warning look, and he stops much to Bruce's surprise.

"I appreciate what you're trying to say, I do, but this is between me and Natasha. Let us deal with it in our own time. You guys thought I abandoned you when you were fighting each other, she thought that was because of her. Her mind isn't going to change because I turn up and say something different. Proving it, and making her believe it are two different things," Bruce explains. "Pushing her will only cause her to pull away."

"Sounds like you need proof too," Tony quietly adds.

"It would be nice," Bruce huffs good naturedly. He's been trying to read her since returning yet he is met by blank stares and avoidance. Any small sign would be a small mercy.

"Have you checked your messages for the last three years?" Steve asks him.

Bruce shakes his head, he assumed under the circumstances he didn't have any. Not long after he moved into the tower, Tony insisted they set up a secure message server so they could stay in contact if the Hulk ever took off and he needed a ride home.

"Maybe you should," Steve tells him while pulling a phone from his pocket. "I didn't know what your plans were, but, uh, to stay in touch. I've already linked it to the server, could be an enlightening listen."

"Thanks," Bruce accepts it but doesn't question the prompt in Steve's voice.

"Probably best you listen to them in private," Tony suggests. "Mine are particularly heart wrenching Buddy, just picture me whispering sweet nothings in your ear," he continues, leaning to coo in Bruce's ear, making the other men chuckle before he clears his throat loudly and addressing the room. "All right, it's time to clear out and roam free for the time being my pretties."

* * *

"I don't mean you any harm Natasha. You and Banner are dear friends, and my intention was to make you aware of my offer, so you can make your peace with the idea if he chooses to come with me." Thor adds thoughtfully when they are far enough away from the rest of the team. "And if he were to accompany me, it would pertinent to be able to perform a Lullaby,"

Natasha sucks in a breath, already shaking her head. "You're not asking me to teach you… He'd be safer if he didn't transform back and forth."

"I agree with you. But it would be helpful," Thor cuts her off. "Alas, I think it is a skill only you will ever possess Natasha."

Her hand turns the door-handle, and she moves into her room which is now nothing more than empty furniture and an unmade bed. She really doesn't want to have this conversation. "You don't have to get involved Thor. Bruce and I can sort this out together."

She doesn't add that she was the one in the wrong in Sokovia; that is private between her and Bruce. They needed the Hulk then, like they will need him in the future. She's reluctant to talk to Bruce or the Other Guy because she doesn't want to do anything to screw up that tenuous link for good.

"Did you help him leave?"

"I did not take him with me, he never asked. Whatever their problems were here on Earth, whatever his reasons for ignoring your call to come back, the accident that took Hulk to Sakaar was pure coincidence. If the Quinjet had crashed on Earth, I am certain Banner would have returned for you."

Natasha sighs, her doubt showing for a rare moment.

"Banner's first thought was of you when he awoke on Sakaar, asking if you were okay. He was quite aggrieved to discover there was little chance of ever returning to you," Thor points out, undeterred from defending Bruce. "I don't wish to cause you pain Natasha, I understand how difficult this is for you, but I think you should understand that Banner and the Hulk still care deeply for you. I am not a stranger to the woes of the heart; your pain stems from the fact that your still care for them just as deeply."

He pauses. "I tried to perform a lullaby and failed. I believe I will always fail."

It takes all of her training for Natasha not to react.

"You must know by now, Banner only returns for you. Whatever words or actions you use are unimportant, for it is you who brings him back. I now believe his sun rises and sets on you Natasha. So, I am extending my invitation to you as well. You, also, would be more than welcome to a place amongst Asgardians, if you so wish."

"And how do your people feel about you inviting outsiders in?"

"You are the lady known for tricking the Trickster," Thor explains like it's one of the highest honours he can bestow. "You would be more than welcome at any Asgardian table for sharing that tale alone."

Feeling a little choked by his words and the memories of interrogating his deceased brother, Natasha tries to swallow the lump in her throat. "I appreciate the offer, and your words on his behalf, yet if Bruce decides to go with you, my place is here on Earth."

Thor assesses her thoughtfully for a long beat, before accepting her answer with a small nod. "Then I have a parting gift for you, Lady Natasha," Thor tells her softly and reaches under his cloak to produce a small green figure. He reveals it to her with a soft smile. The miniature Hulk figure was no more than ten inches tall, wearing armour, and holding a hammer Natasha has never seen before. "A man in Wakanda made this, and I asked if I could have it to give to you as a keepsake. I described the weaponry the Hulk used on Sakaar, and he added those as well."

Natasha hides her frown as she accepts it. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, she decides she'll wait till he leaves before she takes those off to make him look like her Hulk.

The detail is remarkable, the definition on his muscles and face eerily accurate. His eyes are wrong, small and beady, too much anger and absent of the warmth Natasha sees in them.

She's never put much stock in keepsakes for sentimental value, although she appreciates the thought, if not the gentle push Thor is giving her to sort this thing out with Bruce. She wonders when the rest of the team became such an authority on their relationship; Clint is the only one giving them an appreciated wide birth, deeming them capable of figuring out their own feelings. She knows they mean well, they don't want to see her or Bruce repeat their mistakes, except it's becoming tiresome, especially with everything else which is going on.

"Bruce missed Earth." She looks up at the god. "But did Hulk ever mention returning to Earth? Did he miss Earth? Anything at all?" She asks, her voice hesitant and lost, as her thumb skims the features of the toy.

Thor steadies his gaze, his mouth twitching as he realises her point, before answering honestly, "He believes Earth hates him."

"Including me?" Natasha clarifies.

"You are the one who brings Banner back."

"Are you trolling me, Thor?" Bruce asks from the doorway interrupting before she can get Thor to elaborate.

Her head snaps up to see him linger hesitantly at the door. His eyes are locked on the figure in her hands, before they rise up to catch hers fleetingly before he crosses the threshold. She offers him a look of indifference and quips, "You need to stay away from social media and its slang."

"I am not a troll, I'm too tall." Thor says, a little confused, making Natasha flash her eyes at Bruce pointedly only for him to supress his laughter. "What is trolling? I don't understand this term."

"You both need to stay off social media," she reiterates to both of them.

"I've got three years to catch up on," Bruce argues, as he gets close enough to reach for the small Hulk. "May I?"

Only for her to slap his hand away playfully, "Don't even think about it Doc."

He brightens at her levity and stuffs his hands in his pockets as he directs his next sentence at Thor. "Tony said he's going to start prepping the jet to take people home, if you want to say your goodbyes, or if you want to tag along for the trip."

Thor takes it as the dismissal that it is and pats the scientists' shoulder. "My offer still stands if you ever reconsider."

"I appreciate it, but my place is on Earth for now, until they decide they hate the Hulk more than Thanos," Bruce replies much to Natasha's relief, and Thor's nod of understanding.

She avoids looking at Bruce as Thor glances between them as he leaves the room. They're left in silence for a moment as Bruce shuffles around the room. "Sorry for interrupting," he apologises, meeting her eyes. "Barton said you needed to talk to me."

So, Clint is having his say after all, if indirectly. Not his usual tactics, as he usually handles a situation head-on, rather than pulling someone's strings, yet she gathers he did it because Thor would take more notice of Bruce than him.

"You're staying?" Natasha finds herself checking, eyeing him doubtfully. She's made many sacrifices for the job, Bruce being one of them, and his choice to stay on Earth causes an involuntary flutter in her stomach.

He stops shuffling and looks at her. "Yeah," he breathes out. He steps forward into her personal space, stopping when she compensates the move with a small step backwards. "I feel like if either one of us leaves right now, I'll never see you again." He holds her gaze. "Unless that's what you want."

"I don't," she answers a little too quickly for her liking.

"Really?" He asks watching her closely, surprised by her earnest reply. "I'm sorry if my being here is difficult for you, I never meant that."

"It's difficult for both of us," Natasha corrects him. "You're right where I was when you left. Your life has a pause button, mine doesn't," she points out referring to the black outs he has when he transforms into the Hulk.

"I don't expect—"

"I know," she cuts him off. He doesn't expect them to pick up from where they left off, that's what makes this worse. He's not pressuring her or overstepping boundaries. Part of her wants him to fight her, fight for her. She wants an excuse to push him away, except they don't work like that. They understand each other, and she wants him to know that in case they are separated, leaving a gaping hole in her life again.

"Look, if you change your mind and tag along with Thor, I just want you to know that I'll miss you, like I've missed you for the last three years. The Big Guy must've loved it the whole time."

"It loved him," Bruce tells her. "Me? Not so much. I was having heart palpitations just sitting with Thor in a quiet corner of it. Fascinating as it was, being on an alien world, I was a nervous wreck. It's a world designed to mess with my head and heart, and not really an experience I want to repeat. While Earth may hate us, it's home."

"Home sweet home," she sadly quips, picturing him in the midst of a full-blown panic attack.

"I was thinking more along the lines of 'better the devil you know'," Bruce counters with sad smile. She knows the feeling. "Tony says I should probably go for a few days, while Ross is still hanging around."

"Steve's encouraging me to get lost too," she admits. "I think you and I are vying for top spot on Ross's shit list," she jokes.

"I know why he's pissed at me, why's he pissed at you?" Bruce asks, quirking his brow in interest.

"I signed the Accords then walked away," Natasha states simply. "Before that, I let Steve escape."

His face softens in sympathy.

"I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy, and you are far from that," Bruce returns gently, evaluating her reaction when she only blinks back at him. "I could probably stay in the city, do some shopping, probably lost everything from three years ago. Tony gave me my bank card because I'm still pulling a wage for the projects I worked on for Stark Industries. Or he's still paying me for them despite the world declaring me dead."

Stark was probably paying it because he couldn't bring himself to believe Bruce was actually dead, just like she couldn't.

"You haven't lost everything," Natasha tells him, and finds herself looking away from the hopeful glint in his eyes as she amends her words. "I hid your research in my bolthole in DC. One of your go-bags too."

The light disappears, and she inwardly kicks herself for being unable to utter the words he wants to hear and she wants to say. She can't, not even after Thor's touching, if intrusive observations.

"After the team split, Ross declared Steve and the others fugitives, and I helped them escape, despite signing the Accords. I needed to run, and Stark may have been pissed at me, but we both agreed Ross couldn't get his hands on your research. I headed to DC and stowed your stuff there before, rendezvousing with Steve. No one else knows I have it, or where it is."

"That means a lot, thank you," Bruce tells her. "The only thing I'm concerned with is him finding out about, is you and the Lullaby, except I never made any records of that, and neither did any of the others."

The Lullaby had been a team secret, which only extended to Maria Hill and therefore probably Nick Fury. It was Bruce's request, out of fear of the information falling into enemy hands. Practice sessions were never filmed for him to review the progress, and they made sure any Lullabies performed in the field, were away from any onlookers.

"It wasn't a coincidence that he turned up, touting the Accords to us, even if he's the Secretary of State. He either pulled some huge strings, or his strings were the ones being pulled. I wasn't going to let him have free, unrestricted access to your things. The guy holds a serious grudge, who believes what he's doing is right. He's got one hell of a megalomaniac complex."

"And you and Tony agreed with him? About the Accords?" Bruce checks. She knows Steve filled him in on the basics, but it's still tough for her to admit what happened back then, knowing she's partly at fault.

"Yeah, Tony was having a rough time after Sokovia. Pepper left for a while, you were gone, people were blaming him for Ultron. He distanced himself from the team, and we didn't realise he was shouldering that guilt till he brought Ross in," Natasha explains. "Given how you carry around the guilt over everything the Hulk does, I thought you would be more understanding of how we could've been persuaded it was the right thing at the time."

"I do, I am," he agrees readily, and she knows he's trying to assuage any guilt she feels from back then. "I agree with the principle, except I also agree that anybody with powers should have a say in whether they are used as a personal arsenal. Something you know all too well, given your history."

"I don't want to argue or rehash history with you too Bruce, I've done too much of it lately," Natasha replies. She licks her dry lips. "I wanted to keep the team together. They were going to push the Accords on us whether we wanted them or not. I thought by agreeing to them at the beginning, would mean we could negotiate the terms."

"I get that, I do," Bruce replies earnestly. "But you've been used like that in the past, so I thought it would have been the last thing you wanted. You could've just walked away."

"I was tempted."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because I know how it feels to be left behind, and I wanted to keep this skewed family unit together," Natasha admits throatily, catching his eyes quickly before blinking away. "I've come to terms with it. People leave, it hurts."

Her throat hurts even mentioning it. Her chest clenches when he inclines his head, his mouth gearing up to apologise. Again. That he wants to do so just makes her feel worse. His departure was worse than any other she had dealt with. Even Fury's 'death' hadn't caused her this pain; of course it hurt, yet she'd only wanted revenge till he resurfaced. Then she was pissed at him for lying to her, begrudgingly accepting his reasons for those lies. Fury knew it too. Which was probably why he tried to console her with words of Fiji and postcards. Given how the Quinjet had actually been on an alien world, she wonders if the techs had actually detected a plane crash or if the former SHIELD director had dummied the report to make her feel better. Completely backfired on him when she heard nothing from Bruce.

"Natasha," Bruce whispers painfully, reaching out with his hand yet not quite touching her.

"Alright, maybe I'm regressing," she shakes her head. "It's been a weird week. And I know I've been distant, but you should know I don't hate you or him. Never have."

"Thank you. I'm sure the Hulk would appreciate it too," Bruce tells her, his gratitude clear on his face. "If he were talking to me," he tries to joke humourlessly.

"You'll figure it out," Natasha placates him. If she hadn't seen the Hulk still standing there after the fight in Wakanda, she would almost believe Thanos separated them with the gauntlet and the Big Guy was among those they lost.

"I want to start over with you. I'm not asking for a second chance, just the opportunity to work with you and get to know you again."

"We do work quite well together," Natasha admits feeling a warmth in her own cheeks as his redden yet he doesn't look away holding her gaze, the double meaning not lost on either of them.

They're quiet for almost thirty seconds before Bruce checks his watch. "We better hurry, you'll miss the jet."

"I'm not taking the jet," Natasha replies.

"I thought you'd be going with Barton."

"No, this is one trip he makes alone," she shakes her head. "We've both made mistakes but I'd like you to come with me. A peace offering, to start over. Couple of days, hanging out in DC away from the politicians and military. Figure out how to be friends again?" She says it as a question, waiting for the quick bob of his head. It comes quickly, and she returns the small smile which accompanies it. "We can borrow a car from Stark—"

"Borrow?" He questions playfully.

"Make Happy hand over the keys," she relents, matching his smirk. "Either way, we can slip out after the others leave."

She pulls a set of car keys she asked Happy for before the ceremony started. The poor man is still terrified of her after all these years, yet would deny her nothing. It was a contingency plan if today went badly, and they needed to leave quickly. Instead, now it would serve another purpose.

* * *

Less than an hour later, they wave off the Quinjet, and say goodbye to Sam and Rhodey before making their way to the car park. They walk through the second level with the instructions Happy gave Natasha about the location of the car he loaned them. Bruce smirks as he thinks about Pepper's bodyguard, as he stuttered the directions to Natasha as they left. The man shows no shame for his off-key comments, or any fear when protecting his charges, Tony and now Pepper, yet he's reduced to a quivering puddle under the green stare of the petit former assassin who once put him on his back for swinging at her during practice, not during an actual fight.

They turn a corner, and stop short as they notice Secretary of State Thaddeus Ross on the other side of his car with his assistant, while muttering into his phone. Noticing them, his stream of words ceases as he disconnects the call without telling the person on the other end goodbye.

"Banner," he addresses coldly, fixing Bruce with a stare.

"Ross," Bruce returns more smoothly than he feels.

The man is no less intimidating in a grey suit than in his marine fatigues. Ross's steely expression embodies contempt and revulsion as he stares back at Bruce. Thankfully the car park is basically deserted, the other dignitaries and their entourages left shortly after the official memorial. He doesn't want an audience for this reunion though absently he thinks it might be prudent to have witnesses to this encounter.

Suddenly Bruce wishes they had gone with the others, as he remembers why he was concerned about Ross discovering Natasha's ability with the Lullaby. Ross isn't stupid, he'll be suspicious of their relations, and make assumptions which will be correct. If he were standing at a different angle, he'd see Natasha's smirk, rather than sense it when she draws Ross's attention.

"Harbouring a fugitive is punishable by imprisonment Agent Romanoff," the former General reminds her, emphasising her former title, taunting her.

"Who are you referring to? Me or him? Because he was never a fugitive."

"Not the first time I asked if you were harbouring him," Ross points out. "He still had questions to answer about Johannesburg."

"He wasn't a fugitive, he was cleared by Wanda's statement," Natasha reiterates coldly. "The President just pardoned Doctor Banner and the Hulk."

Beside Bruce, Natasha stiffens and decides to cut in before his former, potential father-in-law provokes her further. "Actually," he says, "being half a galaxy away, no one knew where I was."

Ross squints at him, deciding, whether or not he's telling the truth or being facetious. He's being both. Instead, the older man drops it and looks between them. Inwardly, Bruce can only scoff. Even after everything the world has seen, Ross is still sceptical that he could be on an alien planet, let alone that either Bruce or the Hulk did it without intending to escape the consequences of Johannesburg.

"I thought you two would've left with the others."

"I like to limit being inside pressurised flying machines to once a day. Still makes me twitchy," Bruce explains when Natasha offers no answer. The last time he'd been this close to Ross, they were mid-air before he jumped out of the airplane to fight the Abomination, levelling Harlem in the process.

He glances at Natasha to find her focused on Ross, and remembers her comment about them vying for the top spot on his shit list. He dismissed it as a joke, yet now realises there's more to it than that. Ross spearheaded the Accords, and ordered the manhunt for the rogue Avengers. Bruce wonders if Ross was just as tenacious with them as he was with Bruce. More than likely. Especially if he originally pitted them against Tony. And against Natasha too…

The sound of a car beeping and unlocking, cuts through his thoughts, and Bruce meets Natasha's eyes and she gestures toward what he presumes is their car. "Come on, let's go," she says quietly, and they slip into the vehicle and pull out quickly, ignoring the others.

Thaddeus Ross watches the car follow the route to the exit, noting the license plate number and scowling at the tail lights as they navigate the exit barrier carefully. It'd been years since he laid eyes on Banner in person. He'd kept track, of course. The man was able to tame his monster enough to work with the band of misfits who had made his life hell for the last two years as they flaunted their insolence of the Accords by interfering with sensitive missions and eluding capture.

Those Accords were designed to keep them in line; so many innocent lives were affected by their, often, spur of the moment missions and decisions. Interestingly, they only became reckless after Sokovia, cocky even, with their abilities. Before, they listened to advisors, were organised, paid attention to details, and left little to chance. Ross sighs.

He'd cautioned against their free reign after the Avengers first banded together after New York, yet was ignored by the military, the governors, and the President, who dismissed his warnings when Banner resurfaced. Only the Hulk wasn't the epitome of destruction he once was; there was a semblance of control to his obliteration when he worked along-side the Avengers, coordinating with them. Somehow, they managed to achieve the objective Ross himself set out to achieve all those years ago when he worked on replicating the Super Soldier serum with Banner. They trained him to follow their plan— it wasn't mindless destruction and rage. If they were able to do it with someone untrained like Banner, they could do the same with others more disciplined, and sympathetic to the needs of the country.

Maybe it's a personal dislike for the man who was never worthy of his daughter, but Banner's passive possum routine grated on Ross's every nerve. The scientist cared for his daughter, his only redeeming decision after the accident was to leave Betty behind and save her from his life on the run. Ross appreciates Banners' foresight, if not for the ensuing rift between himself and Betty, and the part where the search for him wasted several years of man-hours and resources. If only he had seen sense by handing himself in, they could've made so much progress with the beast. They would've been able to replicate the results.

But no. The man decided to run, and leave a path of rubble and chaos in his wake.

It wasn't a complete waste. If it wasn't for Banner's time on the run, he would never have joined the Avengers.

"He's an Avenger," Ross says thoughtfully, his brow creasing. Banner had willingly joined the Avengers, fought with them, lived with them for years. His reintroduction into society almost a taunt to Ross and the men who searched for him.

"Hmm, Sir?" His assistant answers him distractedly, as he types furiously on his phone to rearrange a meeting for later.

"Banner; he's an Avenger. Tactically, he and Thor are evenly matched to the aliens who attacked our planet. Strong, instinctual. If Thor takes off, the Hulk is the strongest this planet has to offer and he's faced these aliens on their home world." Ross heard the whispers about Banner's time in space from around the facility. Before the last few years, he would never give it a second thought; dismissing it as a lie they made up to keep Banner hidden, to protect him. "The Avengers managed to mould him into an asset. They managed to work with the Hulk, managed to train him without him attacking them. Think about what they could do with actual marines who are combat ready. We're going to need him and hundreds more like him if any other aliens decide to invade us again."

"Should I have them tailed sir?"

"Let them go for now, we have the number plate. It'll be easy enough to track them and mobilise a unit if we need to." Ross hums lightly. "A sample of his blood should be sufficient, should be easy enough to engineer the serum to create more Hulks. If not, Banner and Stark should be able to replicate it if our boys in the lab can't. After all, it's for the good of the human race not just the country."

He knows Romanoff's reputation, knows how easily she can disappear. He could track them, easy enough for the Secretary of State. He could first try and convince the president to compel Banner volunteer a blood sample. But the scientist is as stubborn as the woman travelling with him. And if hunting her and the other rogue Avengers was any indication, Ross has no doubt she'll stand in his way this time too.

"Do you think Doctor Banner will agree to that? The president said…"

"No," Ross answers. "But it's not about what he wants, either of them. It's about what this planet needs."


	4. Chapter 4

17

 **Author Note – I've corrected the formatting to the previous chapters which was lost when uploading, making them difficult to read. I am so sorry I never noticed this before but thank you for continuing to read despite the confusing jumps between the scenes. I loved the comments :D.**

 **Thank you to my wonderful beta, Black Victor Cachat for being a voice of reason while I doubted myself and the story (and the several re-writes of this chapter in particular).**

From the Ashes

Chapter Four – The Road Often Travelled

" _She's fire...but she will not burn you. She knows all too well how it feels to live with ashes."  
― __Alfa H._

" _Hi, I'm not sure if you're using this voicemail or not. If you are, it's clear you're not interested in anything I've got to say because of the other messages I've left. But I've got to try. Tony and Steve are fighting, shocker, I know. It's bad Bruce, and I don't know who else to turn to. I have no right ask, not after pushing you to fight when you didn't want to, except we're falling apart," her voice catches, and he can imagine the watering of her eyes as she pauses. "I told Stark I have no idea where you are_ _,_ _but I wish I did. I wish you were here to talk some sense into either one of them_ _,_ _or maybe get the Big Guy to sit on 'em till they agreed to play nice."_

A sad, breathy chuckle signals the end of the message as Bruce stops the recording. If he couldn't hear the anguish in her voice over his cell phone voicemail, the plea in her words, he'd probably laugh at the image of Hulk sitting on Tony and Steve at her direction. The Other Guy dotes on her like Bruce does.

Pinning Cap and Tony on the ground would just be a bonus for Hulk; he readily agrees with any request coupled with wrestling. It's his forte.

He pulls the earphones out of his ears with a sigh. It wasn't the first message he'd listened, to and he knows there are more. He needs a break, not from Natasha's voice – the soft rasp, the tiniest hint of accent, thick with emotion she doesn't try to hide – is one of the few things which soothes him. The trust she shows him by reaching out to him during a time when there was no way he could help her, both fills him with equal measures of remorse and gratitude.

He's always quick to apologise, to let the guilt overwhelm other emotions and rule his actions. Though he doubts another apology will be appreciated. Considering their mutual acknowledgment to start over, he doesn't want to bring it up again.

He mulled over listening to the recordings after they left the Facility. Honestly, he wasn't entirely comfortable sitting next to her while hearing her voice in his ear, describing a time when it was impossible to help her. Figuring he could wait till he found a private moment and he didn't want to be rude to Natasha. Except the former assassin seemed absorbed in her own thoughts, and this was the only way for him to give her privacy in the confined space of the car. She seems content to ignore his choice of pass time, unbothered by him listening to her personal messages.

He should've read into Steve's cryptic prodding to check his voicemail more than he did. Their friend meant well, and probably didn't think Bruce would hear what he heard. Steve just wanted to give Bruce an insight into her experiences during his time away. The super-soldier would never want it to weigh heavily on Bruce's mind.

After everything, she still tried to turn to him, only for the call to go ignored. He never expected to hear her apology in the first few messages, then a few sporadic ones enquiring about his wellbeing that were time stamped throughout the following year, when people assumed he was on the run after the early ones went unanswered. More than a year has passed since then.

Absently Bruce tugs at his tie, loosening it so he can undo the top button of his shirt. He glances over at Natasha beside him, driving the car they borrowed from Happy. She knows exactly what he's been listening to.

Like him, she's still dressed in the dress-suit she wore to the memorial. Despite the luxury of travelling in one of Tony's more modest – at least one of the ones which isn't emblazoned with anything associating it with Stark Industries or the Avengers, one of Happy's contingencies if Pepper, or Tony in the past, needs to make an unseen exit — cars, air conditioning and comfortable seats, their clothes are rumpled and starting to grow heavy.

It's been a long day, he's tired and in need of a shower. They dressed hours ago, before they left Wakanda, before the sun was up. Now it's setting through the rear window of the car, the orange glow reflecting off of Natasha's new, near-platinum locks.

It's a different look for her; outwardly the light blonde makes her appear more youthful, though the atmosphere surrounding her still holds that timeless quality which attracts Bruce to her. Not that it's just her beauty which holds his attention. She's funny, caring, intelligent; her computer skills are better than his and she can follow his conversations with Tony about their projects no matter that she pretends she can't.

In essence, she's brilliant.

There's no point lying to himself, nothing about their circumstances changes how he feels about her. Knowing she's as confused as he is doesn't make their situation any easier. And it's painfully obvious to him, her and those closest to them.

He watches her, sitting behind the wheel, eyes on the road. They've passed lots of cars on their journey, most of them abandoned, some of them crashed into others, more than likely a result of the snap. Neither commented on the deserted scenes, choosing to pass them in quiet reflection.

Currently, Natasha's focus is on the road before them, but it's obvious to Bruce she's tired. A casual observer would notice nothing different in her demeanour, except he sees the slight drop in her posture, the slight glaze over her eyes. She has amazing stamina; he's witnessed it many times. Only today has pushed her, all of them, physically and emotionally. They haven't even been in a battle, yet travelling such distances and being thrust back into the limelight at the public, then the private memorial, has taken a toll.

Bruce exhales loudly and finishes untying his tie, tossing the thin strip of silk onto the backseat alongside their bags. The action draws Natasha's attention. She appraises him with a tiny glint.

"I can feel you thinking," Natasha initiates. "That's always dangerous," she teases warmly.

"Yeah," he chuckles in spite of himself.

"Care to share?" Only a tad more serious this time, concern dipping into her tone.

"Nothing serious, not really," Bruce promises, if only to appease her worry. "Mostly, I regret us not taking the chance to change before we left."

Natasha looks at her own clothes, head bobbing as she considers it. "You saying this isn't my best look, Doc?"

"You look beautiful," he breathes without missing a beat. Her lashes flicker and he tries to soften the blow with a joke. "But I doubt it's comfortable driving in heels."

"How would you know what it feels like?" It is a perfect comeback, said with that playfulness he associates with her. She's done hundreds of missions dressed in less appropriate wear, and she'll never complain because she adapts, yet he wants to be more considerate. She prefers less formal clothes when she's not working and among friends, or at a party.

"We can stop if you want," she offers lightly, her fingers toy with the indicator though they're the only moving vehicle on the highway. "Stretch our legs, get some air."

"How far away are we from your apartment?"

"About an hour, if that."

Bruce contemplates another hour in companionable silence with her. He enjoys the undemanding quiet yet the air in the confined space is a little stifling.

She waits for the quick bob of his head, before knocking the indicator stick and pulling over to the side of road. Natasha unbuckles her seat and Bruce follows suit. Opening his door, he hops out and makes his way around to join her where the tarmac meets the grass. She walks a few steps onto the green patch, stretching her arms and murmuring contentedly. Her head falls forward to look at the ground, before slipping out of her heels.

Bruce eyes the small concave line of the trees a few metres away, figuring it's a little privacy considering the vast vacant highway behind them. He leans against the hood, ready to get in with kind of intrusion even if it is someone driving by who happens to witness the small wonder of Natasha Romanoff standing barefoot on grass. He smiles to himself.

As if sensing his amusement, her head turns towards him. She straightens and dips to pick up her heels as she turns. "I left those messages for you to hear Bruce," Natasha explains without any more preamble. "You would have listened to them at some point whether I was sitting next to you or not. They don't bother me, don't let them bother you."

"You thought I ignored them," he counters. "And you."

"I know different now," she pledges frankly. "There's nothing you could've done. Hulk was in control and he wanted to leave. I don't think going to the other side of the galaxy was part of his plan, that's a little extreme even for him. I'm fairly confident that being sucked up by a wormhole was an accident."

The way she says it makes it clear Bruce should feel the same, yet he can't quite forgive his other half for indulging in Sakaar's culture, or revelling in his fame. Or for being in control for two years even though that probably kept them both alive on the other planet.

"You still thought he left you, that it was my plan too. You blamed yourself for that too."

"For a while," she agrees. "You said before that I was better off without you in my life, and I thought I pushed you away." Natasha worries her lower lip. "Until Hulk figures out what he has to, or finds the right motivation to transform, we won't be able to ask him why he left. Whether it was to protect you from me, or me from you." Bruce, who dropped his gaze to the ground, snaps his head up. "Protecting those you care about is a way of looking after you even it includes walking away from them. He did it to Betty, to me," Natasha exhales softly. "It makes sense after the last time he saw me." Bruce can feel his own eyes bore into her. "I was unconscious after Ultron decided to shower us with bullets."

Bruce frowns, drawing a blank. He desperately tries to hear a rumble in the back of his mind only the silence is deafening. "Guess that's one memory he's protecting me from."

"I woke up in his arms," Natasha gives a slight shrug. "He left me on the Helicarrier, where he knew I'd be safe. I don't think he realised I was awake, but his focus wasn't on me. He took off after the Quinjet, tossed Ultron out and kept going."

Bruce closes his eyes, the memory of blue skies disrupted by her video plea plays in his mind. That explains the message which he woke up to. His fist curls without thought. He hates his alter ego at times like these.

"Stop thinking about it," Natasha orders gently. He starts to argue, only she sends him a meaningful look which shuts him up. "We can't change it now. I didn't leave you those messages to change it, I just wanted you to know I was sorry. After Ross approached us, Tony asked if I knew where you were. I knew you would never work with Ross. But I hoped you would come home to help the others see he was exploiting the tension between them."

"At the Facility, you said you wanted to keep everyone together, but that doesn't explain how you all ended up in a showdown at an airport in Europe." He says it instead of commenting on her reference to 'home'. Home was the Tower, not the Facility. Home is them together with the others. Home is being a part of the world which doesn't destroy it.

"We let egos get in the way," Natasha says. "Tony needed a friend, he seemed so deflated, and I felt sorry for him. And I knew he needed someone to watch his back – you know how he gets when he's low." Bruce hums in agreement at her choice of words, echoing his from when the team first formed, but refrains from commenting.

"You don't make allowances because you feel sorry for someone Natasha," Bruce prods her, his anger at Hulk replaced by wanting to understand her real reasons for signing the Accords. "You wouldn't agree to something like the Accords blind. You know Ross's history better than the others, how relentless he is, how he twists everything to his view of the world. So, no, I don't understand why you sided with him. Potentially exposing yourself—"

"Maybe that's what I wanted," she cuts him off sharply, as a slow-moving people carrier packed full of suitcases approaches. As they pass, Bruce glances at the two old people crammed in the front seats, staring lifelessly at the road, with their belongings piled in the backseat. "A target is easier to interrogate if they think you are right where they want you."

"This is your life Nat, not an interrogation," Bruce replies, facing her once more.

"We couldn't find you!" Natasha stresses. "Not even a body. If you were out there hiding, even with Stark's stealth jet, I should've been able to find a trace, except I couldn't. I wanted to make sure Ross didn't have you."

"He isn't modest, Natasha. If he had me, he'd be front and centre collecting his medal for doing so," he replies bitterly, even though he's suddenly overcome with guilt for her reasoning. "I'm not as important as what the consequences laid out in the Accords for defying them," he adds softly. "Even if you suspected Ross of holding me somewhere, I would never want you to risk yourself for me."

"It's what friends do," Natasha replies.

 _Friends._

The term is bittersweet in his ears, and more than he expects, but he'll take it. He won't argue with her on it either, which would lessen the importance of her declaration. He hates the idea of her risking herself for him, or worse by ending up in a cell next to his. Yet there is a part of him which appreciates her thorough search for him.

"Though it was evident after the first briefing that he had no clue where you were." She sighs loudly. "We played it wrong, but we would've backed ourselves into a corner whatever we did. By the time we realised this, someone else besides Ross was playing us. We didn't see him coming. Zemo used the Accords to distract us, framed Barnes with evidence no one could disprove. The Government wouldn't have believed us if we tried to explain ourselves."

She exhales loudly. "Which just proved the point the UN were trying to make. It drove a wedge between us. You know how Steve gets where Barnes is concerned and you know what guilt does to Stark. They're too stubborn to talk it out on something they agree on, let alone this."

"And it escalated to a very public group knockout from there," Bruce surmises and Natasha nods. The two men were at odds with each other when they first met, but they managed to form a begrudging respect over the years which was tenuous and easy to break.

"What happened back there, in the garage with Ross," Bruce starts, watching her closely. "He seemed pretty pissed at you. He thought you were hiding me?"

"At the time, the question was aimed at the team," Natasha replies. "But he's more than likely to make assumptions after we left the memorial together."

"Fair point." Bruce swallows. "Did he ever manage to catch up with you when you were on the run?"

"Not personally." Natasha pauses, her face annoyingly neutral. "It's not like we were laying low in the back streets of Calcutta. There was a group of us, and Steve wasn't going to let them dictate who we could and couldn't help. If people needed us, we were there."

It's not a definitive answer, certainly not one to appease the gnawing suspicion which has been in the back of his mind since they left the compound. It was this worry which caused him to snap at her for getting involved with the man who hunted him for years. "I'm sorry, I just…the man puts me on edge. The thought of him doing to you what he did to me…scares me."

"I get it Bruce," Natasha tells him softly. "I felt the same when he mentioned you at the first briefing."

She glances at the dwindling sunset. "Sun's getting real low," she whispers, thinking out loud. Bruce hears none the less and feels the surge in his veins at the phrase, the tingle on his skin as if she's touched him.

Bruce nods and lets the words hang in the air for a beat before asking, "If I had been on Earth, would you have brought me back if you found me?"

"I'm beginning to realise I never would've had to look for you," Natasha answers with feeling. "But if I had, it depends on where and when I found you," Natasha tells him cryptically, as they exit a roundabout. "You needed time after Sokovia. You were done after Johannesburg but you still came."

He had been done; emotionally, physically. He'd only gone to Sokovia for her.

"If I had found you back then," she continues. "I probably would've sent Tony to talk to you first, give you the choice of coming back. I don't think I would've been able to convince to come home. Let alone leave without you." She pauses and he can feel her doubt through her words, wondering if her presence would've been welcome. He doesn't know how to convince her she would've been. "But _if_ I ever found you being held against your will, Ross or not, I would've dragged your ass home to the team where you would've been safe."

"Probably a good thing you never found me on Sakaar, and the Other Guy was the one holding me against my will."

"I can handle the Big Guy," Natasha answers, with all the privilege which is rightfully hers.

"Yeah, yeah, you can," Bruce chuckles. "I remember hearing your voice." She tilts her head inquisitively. "Thor found the Quinjet, and managed to accidentally play the message you were transmitting when Hulk flew away. Your voice transformed me."

" _You are the one who brings Banner back."_

Thor informed her of that a few hours ago while Bruce had been listening from the door.

Her only reaction is another slight flutter of her lashes. The tension coils in his chest as the air grows heavy.

"Look, even if I had been here, I don't think you were wrong to sign the Accords. I understand what this job costs us, every casualty, every screw up. Everything which drives us to make the next mission right, only for us to obsess over minor faults. I see the necessity for an _ideal_ version of the Accords except the real world won't allow for that reality. And what Ross proposed was far from it. I wouldn't have signed it, I would've refused, retired, and walked away."

There was nothing anyone could've said back then to convince Bruce to work with –correction— _for_ Ross. There was too much history.

The Accords were supposed to be an initiative by the United Nations, with support from a lot of countries including their base of operations, the US, which includes the President, except Ross managed to wrangle himself to be their go-to guy for negotiating, implementing and enforcing the new laws. Something which was too much of a coincidence, a conclusion Natasha had come to as well.

Not only that Ross was Bruce's former fiancé's father, but he blamed Bruce for Betty being hurt during the Accident. Bruce fully believes the man's mission to find him blurred the lines of professional responsibility, which drove a deeper wedge in the relationship with his daughter. Obsessively hounding Bruce's trail and trying to take control of the Hulk with brute force, Ross never gave up because he believed they could recreate the Hulk with trained military personnel to do the country's bidding, and control the variables to contain that much strength.

After being betrayed by someone he trusted, and the disastrous trial with Emil Blonsky, resulting in the creation of the Abomination and his ensuing challenge of the Hulk where they flattened Harlem, Bruce refuses to let it happen. He's certain if he'd been around when the Accords were proposed, Ross would've been able to wrangle it to try and force him to hand over either his research or his DNA. The Secretary of State never saw him or the Hulk as anything more than a weapon.

"I understand why you would've retired with the Accords. But we aren't Avengers to serve a government Bruce," Natasha points out. He cocks an eyebrow at her. "Personal motivations aside, we do this for people who can't do this for themselves. Only how could we do that when they're afraid of us, when they don't trust us? We tear through their lives while telling them we're trying to save them, but we don't stick around to fix it afterward." She pauses. "I don't want people to be afraid of me anymore, even if I know they always will be.

"I don't regret signing the Accords or taking Tony's side at the start. I regret how we handled it, or let them handle us. Zemo played us so easily in Berlin and escalated the situation. I ran because I can help the team more when I'm free." She continues. "We couldn't do what we needed to do and be in that spotlight. The world is always watching."

"Which is fine when they're cheering us on, except people turn so quickly at the first signs of problems," Bruce follows her thinking.

"And we were right in the middle of those problems, so it was natural for people to blame us. We were so lucky to function without consequence for as long as we did, especially after what HYDRA did to SHIELD."

"You did what you had to, Nat."

Listening to her fears, the ones they share, makes his heart ache and he can't stop the step he makes to be closer to her. He only just stops his hands as they skim her arms. Her head tilts up slightly, her green eyes sheen like they did in Barton's spare room.

"I'm not afraid of you," Bruce tells her to remind her there are people who care about her.

The moment passes as she shakes herself from her reverie to diffuse their closeness. "Liar," she smirks.

Bruce smiles grateful for the twinkle in her eye as she adds, "I'm not afraid of you either."

He nods and turns serious. "If we left together after Sokovia, retiring wouldn't have been easy. Being with you would've been…" he trails off, staring into her eyes as she nods for him. Incredible. "But it would've been impossible for us to sit back and pretend not to see the danger out there when it's hurting people we care about," he tells her pointedly. "We would've been drawn back into this world."

Whether it had happened after Johannesburg, Sokovia, or later, it would've been difficult to walk away from her. In the last week, he had come to acknowledge that Natasha wouldn't have been able to stand down from her responsibility and retire with him. He doubts he would've been able to do it either.

"Not just people we care about," Natasha supplies for him, confirming his assumptions and filling in the blanks he still has from his time away. "Stark would send in the Relief Foundation to tend to those who were hurt, he'd buy or rebuild whatever civilian building we levelled. Except, after a few years the damage adds up. New York, DC, Sokovia. We weren't under direction from a government, no one gave us orders, they had no reason to take responsibility for our mistakes. The public was demanding action, and they came up with the Accords. As a group we're dangerous, and there is no precedent for what we're capable of. They were trying to make easier for the world to deal with situations like this."

"Governments have agendas. You've been used before Nat, trusting your orders were for good. Trusting them blindly—"

"I wasn't going into this blind," Natasha interrupts. "Tony and I hoped they'd listen to our point of view if we joined up, we would have a say in how the Accords were set up before they forced them onto us."

"Tony's judgement was sound? When he was making decisions while influenced by grief, guilt, and probably his PTSD? Pepper was gone, there was no buffer. You said he was low; there's no way he was thinking clearly." Bruce understands that part of his best friend because he spent most of his life since the failed experiment which created the Hulk in that low place. Self-recrimination is a heavy weight to bear, let alone shake when rational thought has no part of it.

"He already shouldered the blame for what happened, publicly and personally, then one particular parent tracked him down and blamed him for a building collapsing on her kid," she admits. "He was looking for a way to make amends, and make himself feel better. He was trying to be proactive."

"He was hitting rock bottom, you know that. His mind twists that blame and he reacts impulsively. Added to the fact he relies on the trust people put in the Avengers, which, from the way you describe the situation, was non-existent."

"We've never given anyone a reason to trust us. We were a group of incredibly skilled people prepared for battle, who ripped apart a major city when fighting an alien army. We may have saved the world once, but the world didn't know much about us, and what they did, was pretty sketchy. We came out of nowhere. Why would people trust our agenda?"

"Initially the press and public loved us, but you know they were just waiting for our first mistake and it went downhill from there," Natasha ruefully points out when he says nothing.

"I think our scripts are getting muddled up," Bruce sighs. "You're right. I wasn't here, I shouldn't judge the situation when I wasn't involved."

"You missed a lot," Natasha admits without coddling him. There's no use denying it when they've been embracing it for the last week he's been back on Earth. Waking on Sakaar seems so long ago now. "You were missed, a lot," she adds softly.

"I wish I had been here even if I couldn't have done anything except offer moral support," he tells her. Tony would never reach out to Steve or vice versa to settle their differences, they were too stubborn. But perhaps Natasha had been right in the message she left him; he could've talked some sense into them, or at least not let the situation fall apart as it had. At the very least, he could've tried. It's pointless ruminating on what he could've done, because they will never know if his presence would've changed it for the better or worse.

"A place to hide would've been nice," she notes with slight upturn of her lips.

There's with some finality to the conversation. He's by no means trying to give her validation, and she isn't looking for it. He means that he understands what she did, and why. He glances at his watch; it's been nearly three hours since they waved off the others in the Quinjet. Rhodey and Sam stayed at the Facility to hold the fort, giving their support Tony and Steve respectively.

Bruce eyes the dwindling sun and figures they should continue with their journey before it gets too late. "We should probably get going."

"Probably, don't want to risk driving into another night riot in the middle of DC," Natasha agrees breaking away from his personal space to side step him. She shrugs off her jacket to reveal a sleeveless navy-blue dress hidden underneath. She throws it in the backseat and rummages in her bag for a hoodie to slip on over the top.

The highways aren't that bad, the roads were virtually dead. They had thankfully been cleared of the empty vehicles, and accidents caused by drivers disappearing from behind the wheel in the first few days. The city streets were worse, people putting up fliers of lost loved ones out of desperation, smashed windows, and closed signs in shop windows. Signs of panic in the aftermath of Thanos, caused by people suffering in their grief.

In the drivers' seat Natasha remains impassive, seemingly unaffected by the scene they drive through. She's not, just internalising for later. Their journey since their short break has been a quiet one, but he's grateful for it. They've spent the last week living with others, and it's been full of grief, no real time to think.

"When did you set this bolthole up?" Bruce finally when she stops at a light. They are about to leave the beltway and drop down into the area north of Union Station.

"When I first joined SHIELD, it was a sign of faith from Fury," she answers easily. "I stayed in my quarters on base but I, uh, needed somewhere. I was struggling, trying not to fall back on old impulses. Fury knew I needed to set up fail safes, one of the many things we have in common, so he allowed me, this one on the basis of full disclosure of its whereabouts and contents to him and Barton." The other light turns amber and she puts the car in drive, preparing for green. "I never used it, not till the situation with the Accords, yet I felt better by knowing it was there."

He accepts her reply with a nod, aware she could see him out of the corner of her eye. Her revealing description more than he expected. "I always abandoned the places I was staying at," he comments.

"I remember," Natasha replies, the car moves forward, and she puts on the left indicator.

He recalls the comment she made when they first met about SHIELD never losing him. She must've had some part to play in keeping Ross from finding him. "Maybe that's why we're contending for the top of Ross's shit list."

Perhaps Ross managed to access SHIELD files pertaining to his pursuit of Bruce, perhaps some of Natasha's personal reports about arranging protection for him from other interested parties. Their encounter in the car park will no doubt further annoy the Secretary of State about their continued freedom, both physically and legally according to the pardons they were issued with by the President.

He watches the side of her mouth curve upward. "Maybe."

They descend into silence once more as they drive through the streets of Washington DC. The car winds its way through a few tight corners before Natasha finds a spot on a side street. Killing the engine, she stretches a little as they both prepare to leave the car. When she opens the door, he follows suit, walking around the car to meet her on the sidewalk.

He looks up and down the terrace block—a dead-end road Bruce notes. It's not what he expected; he thought she would have several ways out. His gaze tracks over the road, eyes trained from years of devising his own escape routes, and can only find two visible ones – the way they came in or across the roofs. No hiding spots either. The brick-built houses are old with grey render on the outside, and have seen better days, as they have obviously been affected by the recent riots, but are no worse than what they've seen driving into the city. Some of the ground and first floor windows are bordered up with wood.

In the twilight of early evening, everything is calm and quiet, shadows cast from the apartment buildings cover their arrival in one of Tony's cars. They stand on the sidewalk as another car drives by, and Bruce notes their car does not look out of place amongst the others parked along the road.

Regardless, Bruce can sense someone watching them, and notes the twitching curtain in more than one window. He doesn't blame them, everyone's on edge, and Natasha probably hasn't shown her face in the area since she first went on the run. Being recognised as a neighbour would depend on the whether there is a steady rotation of residents. He tries to act casual, as if he belongs here. They really should've changed before leaving the facility. Their attire does little to conceal their identity, usually a priority for both of them yet they were too bogged down after the memorials to bother changing. Despite her hood pulled over her head, her striking features still draw attention. Though the neighbours would probably recognise her better if her hair was still red rather than blonde.

Natasha pulls out their bags from the back seat and locks the car. Bruce reaches out for them, except she only gives up his as she starts off down the street, without waiting for him to follow. With a few long strides he manages to catch up and fall into step with her.

"It's a nice block," he says conversationally.

"Well, it's not the Tower," comes her reply with a playful lilt.

"Not everyone needs a Tower to compensate for shortcomings." Natasha actually snickers while throwing him a reproachful look, the reaction he was looking for to break the tension as they walk down the sidewalk.

They reach the curve in the dead-end street, and Bruce notices a small alley set back between two buildings which isn't visible from where they parked. He looks at the gap, and sees the wrought iron fire escape stairs leading from each apartment to the roof or floor. With the flat roofs, it would be easy to get out either way. Closer to alley with more cover for an easy escape if anyone came knocking on the front door.

Natasha walks up the stoop of the building on the right, pulling a set of keys from her pocket as she does. Bruce is close on her heels, careful not to linger to draw any more attention to themselves. She makes quick work of the lock, and Bruce finds himself in a modest lobby, a collection of mail boxes and a small elevator at the rear and a stair well to the right. The interior is well maintained, even if it's nothing fancy, just the essentials.

Wordlessly, Natasha takes the stairs and leads him to the top floor. It's a quiet building, not even the sound of someone's television or music blaring ruins the eerie peace, which is steadily unnerving Bruce. Metal grates on metal as she slides her key in the lock, using it to push the door open. She enters first, moving with measured steps to make sure they're not met by an unexpected visitor. Bypassing the hall light, Bruce follows her lead cautiously, shutting the door softly behind him. His eyes adjust to dim light let in by the windows in the room at the end of the hallway.

Once Natasha is certain the apartment is clear, she turns to the wall and flips open an alarm panel he never saw in the darkness. She taps in a quick code to deactivate the silent alarm before turning to him, beckoning him further into the apartment. "Not much of a grand tour, but we should be comfortable for a few days."

Her living space is an open plan, with a small kitchen space to one side and a table and chairs on the other with a tiny sofa pushed into a corner. Neutral colours coat the walls with polished exposed boards, which creak to give the older building a modern vibe. Stale air lingers, and a fine layer of dust covers surfaces from lack of use. No personal effects, just the basic essentials, nothing to reveal the identity of the occupier, suiting Natasha's needs. Bruce leaves his bag on the table as Natasha opens a window, before approaching the door on the other side of the room which opens to reveal a compact bedroom, with a metal frame double bed, and a wardrobe.

"The furniture came with the apartment. Bathroom's through there," she announces, gesturing to a door leading off of the bedroom. Bruce cranes his head around it and sees another closed till she pushes it open to check behind it. All clear.

"Nicer than some of the places I've stayed. Running water, bathroom facilities, a roof," he muses. After being on the run for as long he was, he's more than grateful for anywhere with a working bathroom. Actually, it's all he can muster, because he's touched by the faith she's showing him with something she's never shared with anyone else besides Clint and Fury. The fact that she's hidden his personal things here means more than he's ready to vocalise, and more than she's ready to hear.

Putting her bag on the floor by the door, Natasha braces her hands on the bed and starts to push it out of position. Bruce drops to her side and helps her as the frame scrapes against the floor, unveiling the wooden boards underneath it, with a small rectangle cut in a barely discernible outline. Not exactly the most original place, except Bruce has no doubt she has something beneath the boards which will withstand any one trying to break in or at least something to destroy the contents if someone manages to breach her safe. He's not in a rush, he'll only leave if she wants him to have his stuff and go. She hasn't said anything to make him think that's what she wants.

"Thought you could double-check your things while I make dinner," she says looking weary in the rumpled dress, having ditched the hoodie shortly after they came through the door she chose to wear to the memorial.

"You're making dinner?" Bruce questions with a raised eyebrow, which she huffs at. Well the huff is aimed at the floor boards which have chosen to stick, but he figures it has a dual purpose.

"I can heat canned soup Doc," she points out. It was probably stowed here just in case she ever needed it. Her attention returns to her task of plying the floorboards up. "I'm sure Stark will give you access to anything that's not here," she continues, pulling a knife from her waist. She slides the blade into the crack and uses it to lever the section of boards up to reveal a floor safe. She puts in the code, the door releases with a puff of air. On the underside of the door, Bruce notices vials of chemicals linked to the keypad, ready to be released and destroy the contents, confirming his theory of a contingency if anyone found her hiding spot. She doesn't cover anything from him as reaches in for a USB drive on top of a selection of fake documents, including passports alongside a few hand guns and knives. Wordlessly, she holds it out to him, presumably holding his files. He meets her eyes as he carefully takes it from her. "You didn't need to risk yourself, or your hideout, for my research."

"It wasn't a risk," Natasha tells him gently with confidence, and rises from her crouch after extracting a few documents and passports from the safe. Together they move the bed back to the centre of the room.

Suddenly the room is too small for them, and Bruce watches Natasha move as if he's never said anything. She produces a laptop from her bag and hands it too him, "It's clean. Your go bag is in the wardrobe."

Casting an assessing glance at the wardrobe, he tries to remember what he put in the various bags he littered around the Tower. Mostly clothes, a spare toothbrush, and some form of fake ID of his own. Deciding to leave his bag where it is, he follows her back to the living room while she busies herself making dinner. Bruce allows himself to be distracted by the work on the laptop, knowing they're still toeing a fine line. He doesn't track the time passing, Natasha is a calming influence— she makes his skin tingle even when she's trying to calm him— and he wonders how he would've faired if Natasha was with him on Sakaar. One regret he has about his time in space was not having enough time to explore Asgard, as it was the first alien planet to make an alliance with Earth through Thor. Tony once proposed asking the God for a personal tour, but between bouts of fighting HYDRA cells and discovering Loki's Sceptre, there wasn't time to arrange such a trip.

Sometime later, he's brought out of his work mode by the soft clearing of a throat, and lifts his head to find her standing before him holding two bowls of vegetable soup. The corner of her lips quirks as she looks pointedly at the now messy table from the notes he couldn't help making from the loose ends he left on the research. She actually laughs as he scrambles to clear the contents to the floor. Natasha places the bowls down and quickly retrieves two glasses of water from the counter.

"Thanks," Bruce says, a sense of domesticity coming over him –which had been slowly growing since buying groceries when she threw his favourite tea in the basket, and then being shown her private hide away—, something he hasn't felt since Betty. Most of the meals he shared with Natasha before Sokovia were communal with at least another member of the team present. Something he'd like to change now he's home.

"I'm not a good cook, but I know enough to get by," Natasha replies dropping into the other chair.

"It smells good," Bruce assures her truthfully, and tucks in, his stomach rumbling appreciatively. It's been a long day, and they haven't eaten much.

After a few bites, Natasha starts talking. "You were right before," she admits making him pause dumbly with his spoon mid-air. So she clarifies, "What you said at the Facility. You were gone for two years and we thought you'd abandoned us. It was my fault because I pushed you, I never expected you to come back for me even though I wanted you to, yet the others needed you too. Especially during the worst of it, when Steve and Tony were arguing. I wanted you there, yet I was glad you were nowhere in sight. I don't want to think about what Ross would've done to you or the Big Guy if you'd intervened."

"Yeah, Ross methods tend to border of the obsessive when it comes to me. But you were still protecting me when you thought I'd walked out on you," Bruce responds.

More than once, it's crossed his mind that Ross was so intent on pushing the Accords on the Avengers as a way of drawing him out of hiding. The man virtually disappeared when he started working for Stark Industries. But now Bruce realises Ross was working on his political career, worming his way into a position of power to act when the Avengers eventually made a mistake he could use against them. Use as leverage to use against Bruce. He'd done what Thanos had. Waited in the side lines, tested them, then pounced at the right time.

Of course, Bruce is ruminating on his personal experience with the man – his mind giving the former soldier more power than is possible in his current political position. Bruce knows how Ross operates, knows something such as stature will prevent Ross from following through on his personal vendettas. The President and the people may have forgiven the Avengers for their indiscretions because they need the team to fight a new powerful alien force, but Ross never will. The former general will grow resentful of the lack of influence to inflict any kind of retribution over the personal embarrassment of being forced to let them go without punishment.

"I knew you needed time," she answers. "It's a relief though."

"What is?"

"Finding out the Big Guy was running the show, and neither of you really had a choice about coming home. And when you did, you came back to help us."

"You thought I would let you go through that alone?"

"After I pushed you? Yeah." She pauses to assess his response, body language and verbal. "Fact is, he took off and left me behind. If that's not a huge brush off, I don't know what is. If he's not happy with being on the team, or with me, I'm not going to force him to stay. Neither should you."

"Look, I've thought a lot about how I would have reacted after Sokovia if given the chance. You're right, I would've been angry. My last memory before changing is of you kissing me. I woke up hearing your voice and I asked for you, but you weren't there." Bruce pauses as her eyes widen just enough for him to seem them glisten.

Bruce pushes on. "I guess I would've been pissed till I figured we saved more than we would have without the Hulk. I can't imagine staying mad once I realised how instrumental the Other Guy was in all of that. Ultron could've flown away if he hadn't been there." He pauses again. "I can tell you over and over again that I wanted to come back for you, it's not going to make you trust me again. As for flying away, that's something you need to hash out with him, because he's not exactly cooperating with me. He may have turned up at the last-minute last week, but I can't feel the link like I used to," Bruce finishes.

It's bothering him more than he'd like to admit. The Hulk is still inside of his head, yet it's a barely tangible presence. Hulk's new-found stubbornness is as infuriating as his penchant for smashing anything in his path. He can feel his anger, embarrassment, reluctance, except there's no line of communication. Without it, Bruce doesn't feel completely in control. Bruce supposes Thanos is the first to ever defeat him properly. Thor is close match strength wise, but he gets the impression from Thor's gung-ho description their bouts are more playful like brothers wrestling.

"Isn't this what you always wanted?"

He refocuses on her thoughtful yet blunt words. It is exactly what he's wanted since the accident. The thought of never transforming again is like an oasis he's been dreaming of or at least he used to and was always devasted when the Hulk emerged. Of course, he's not going to fall into the trap of becoming complacent after the Other Guy's recent refusal to co-operate. He's not going to start dreaming of a day when he doesn't feel the searing pain, the fire in the pit of his stomach, the drumming of his pulse or the hear the ripping of fabric as the Hulk unleashes himself.

His accident is irreversible; he knows, he's tried to destroy the Hulk several times. Once trying to take his own life to achieve it but his counterpart thwarted that attempt by spitting out the bullet he shot into his mouth. After that, Bruce got the message, loud and clear, Hulk was going to outlive any attempt to get rid of him. Bruce's grown accustomed to rather than come to terms with the fact he'll never be able to separate himself from his angrier half.

"You know the saying, 'you don't know what you have until you lose it'?" She nods. "This isn't that. I can still feel him, he's not gone. I need to know what's wrong with him. I'd like to help him," Bruce admits surprising himself despite his selfish reasons. Hulk's a wild card he can't control, and this separation is troubling and unpredictable. He looks across the table, half joking, "Do you think we can find a cliff?"

Bruce realises it's the worst thing to say as Natasha balks. "Bruce, I know you're angry with me but—"

"I'm sorry," Bruce cuts in quickly. "That was a joke. A poorly timed one, I'm sorry. I don't mean to sound flippant, but if I was in a situation like that, maybe he would transform. He and I don't talk or interact, we can't. Nat, you understand him better than anyone else, and I need your help to talk to him."

Natasha shakes her head. "I'm not pushing you again so the Big Guy will come out and play. If I did, he'd never trust me again. I'm not sure if he trusts me now. Not after Sokovia. This is one thing you need to figure out with him."

"Does that include the Lullaby?" He asks, hearing the finality in her tone, and internally winces for asking another selfish question. It's a revealing act which binds them, it takes its toll on her as well.

"Honestly, yeah," Natasha tells him. "I'll do it if I have to, to protect you and him from others, but I'm reluctant because he seemed really eager last time in Wakanda," she sighs. "He recognised Earth; I don't know if he realised he was in Africa, and that's why, but I barely got the words out, and he was changing. I'm worried about him too, yet I'm not forcing a transformation to find out what's wrong with him. He's got to come to us."

Bruce accepts her reasoning with a nod. "Thank you. For what it's worth, if he never comes back, I'm here to stay. I'll train to use a suit, I'll work in the lab with Tony to design whatever weapons you guys need, defence systems for orbit around the planet. Whatever I can do to help."

"Whatever you can do," she repeats wistfully.

"What? You don't think I can?"

"No, I just…" she trails off as she pins him with her stare. "I never wanted being a part of the Avengers to change you. You always avoided the fight before we brought you in."

"Change is inevitable after what Thanos did," Bruce says brushing off the impact the Mad Titan has had on him. It's not the time to run and hide, at least not from Thanos if he chooses to return. Natasha's mask doesn't drop at all as he watches her. "If we were sure Thanos was gone for good, and all the defences were in place, what would you do?" Bruce asks hoping to distract her.

"What are you talking about?"

"If you and I got back in the car and just kept driving, where would you go?" he tells her. "If you could be anywhere else, doing anything else, what would it be?"

"Finding a new cover," she replies automatically.

"What would the cover be for?"

That makes her pause and think. After a long moment she shrugs, flashing him an apologetic smile. "I don't know, it's what I've always done."

"You don't need one, the real you is better than any act could ever be." He's always been good at reading her from the moment she pulled a gun on him in the shack in Calcutta; the quiver of her lashes gives away her blush. "Nobody would blame you for walking away from this. You could retire."

"I'd blame myself," she scoops some soup with her spoon ignoring Bruce's understanding nod before turning the conversation on him. "What would you do?"

"I'd probably go travelling again, take time to appreciate I'm not on running away from anything," Bruce replies. "Start a clinic somewhere, possibly Calcutta."

"Well, if you ever need anyone to handle the waiting room, I have administrative experience," she jokes as she finally puts the spoon in her mouth, hiding her smirk.

"Remember you said your boss was a real pric—"

"Pain in the ass," she finishes with a laugh, her eyes twinkling. "I really hated that assignment."

"Surely Tony wasn't the worst assignment you've ever had," Bruce says, despite laughing himself.

"No, but he cracked the top ten," Natasha relents with another smile. "It certainly led to an interesting assignment, where I was nominated to 'bring in the Big Guy'," she adds with a warm expression.

Bruce's own face heats up, "Well you were quite persuasive."

He earns himself an eye roll as she pushes away from the table, taking her bowl with her till he holds out his hand to stop her.

"You made dinner, I'll clean up," he offers while standing. She lets him take the bowl but still follows him to the sink to refill her glass with water.

"I don't have to stay if you don't want me to," Bruce offers thickly watching her face.

"We've been over this," Natasha turns off the tap. Leaning with her back to the sink, she sighs. "Am I disappointed we didn't leave together? Yes. I'm not angry because he left. If I was him, I would've done the same thing for the same reasons."

"We made you a promise."

"You did," Natasha points out though given the way the Big Guy looked at her back then he would've made the same one. "And I promised I would never force you to fight when you didn't want to."

"But you knew he would. You trusted him when I couldn't."

"I still trust him Bruce, I wouldn't have bought you here if I didn't."

He stares into the pile of washing up forlornly. There's not much she can say to dissuade his own self-doubt. It's endearing to say the least, tempting her to break the resolution she pledged to herself. His absence had done nothing to squash her feelings, it heightened them for a while. She doesn't regret acting on their feelings or pledging herself to him. It made her more guarded with embarrassment but it was short lived as she was able to deepen friendships with those closest to her. She became more emotionally available and aware, a break-through she had once thought impossible, and not be likened to a robot who goes through the motions rather than actually feeling anything. He opened her heart and she found it impossible to close it once he left. His presence is overwhelming yet she wouldn't give it up.

"If I could do it again-." Bruce starts.

"I wouldn't change anything except going after the Quinjet," Natasha finishes for him. "If only to say goodbye."

Bruce raises his eyebrows at that. "Guess he saved us from that too. Walking away is easy, but saying goodbye is something I've never been able to do. With you, it'd be impossible."

"If I want you to leave, I'd ask Bruce," she states clearly without giving him a chance to misread her or misinterpret her words. "Besides, who else will make it up to me with breakfast in the morning?" She tacks on cheekily.

Bruce chuckles, relenting, "You're on."

"It's been a long day, I'm going to shower and change," she tells him pushing away from the sink, keeping eye contact. "Promise me you'll be here in the morning."

"I will." He nods eyeing the dark blue dress she wears. She lets him see the weary expression, tired eyes. She hasn't rested this past week, tonight being the first real opportunity to relax. Bruce knows she wouldn't have had much of a chance when she was a fugitive.

"I'll be fine, I'll clear up then rest on the sofa," he responds.

"The bed's big enough," Natasha offers neutrally.

"I appreciate the offer, but I don't think it's the right time," Bruce tells her sadly, understanding her offer was based upon comfort more than an invitation to re-establish their relationship. She nods with a soft smile, accepting his non-rejection. She spins on her heel and disappears into the bedroom.

Bruce tidies the kitchen and the research he was looking at before dinner as he listens to the shower running. He decides to keep the window open, anyone chancing a break in will regret it once they come face to face with Hulk and the Black Widow.

He's pouring two cups of tea, a habit he and Natasha developed while in the Tower, when Natasha reappears wearing a purple shirt –his purple shirt, he realises— with his bags and a pillow and blanket. For a normal sleep pattern, the tea would keep you awake but he and Natasha are notorious for being nocturnal because of their respective nightmares and both finding tea more relaxing than coffee in the middle of the night.

"Just so you know, a shirt is missing," Natasha informs him as she puts them on the sofa.

"Missing? Doesn't look missing as far as I can see. Commandeered is more like it."

"It's comfortable to sleep in," is all the explanation he gets as she leans against the door frame and crosses her arms.

He huffs happily, ignoring her bare legs and feet. "Thanks," he says and gives her one of the cups. She's not overly fond of tea, but she's joined him for a cup on more than one occasion when they lived together in the Tower. She sips it quietly as he disappears into the bathroom for his own shower.

After, he quickly redresses in a T shirt and boxers. Opening the door to her bedroom, he finds her sitting on the bed, placing the toy Hulk Thor gave her on the bedside table next to her tea.

"Really?" He questions with a groan. Her impish grin lights up her face.

"I like the Big Guy," she protests.

"Little Big Guy," Bruce corrects. She quirks an eyebrow as he hears a faint rumble in the back of his mind. Their eyes hold for a beat as if she's heard it too or it escaped his mouth by accident. He holds her gaze for another long minute before he starts to walk out. "Good night Natasha."

"Thank you," Natasha says as she slides beneath the blanket. Bruce spins on his heel.

"What for?"

"Coming home," she tells him softly, getting comfortable under the covers. She's like a beacon, drawing him in. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to, you can just disappear again if you need to."

"I know, but I have this talent of destroying the best things in my life and I consider my relationship with you one of them." Natasha's eyes snap to his to gage his honesty. "I don't want to damage the delicate balance we've got right now."

She blinks, relaxing again as she nods. "Goodnight Bruce."

Bruce lingers as she settles on the pillow, watches as she curls onto her side before closing the door behind him. He turns off the light with a sigh. It feels like they're going in circles and he can't bring himself to break the pattern. Settling on the small sofa, he pulls out the phone Steve gave him to listen to the last messages before he falls asleep. Putting in his headphones, he brings up his messages and plays the next one in list only for Natasha's voice to fill his ears.

" _I don't blame you for ignoring my messages, my fault in the first place. I won't apologise because we needed you in Sokovia. I just wanted to let you know, stay away. I've burnt myself and I'm out, Ross has given the order to arrest me on sight. Who knows what he'd do to you if you showed up."_


	5. Chapter 5

**Author Note – Thank you all for your reviews, they made me so happy. Hopefully you'll like this instalment.**

 **Special thanks to my beta Black' Victor Cachat.**

From the Ashes

Chapter Five – Blast from the Past

" _The heat made people crazy. They woke from their damp bedsheets and went in search of a glass of water, surprised to find that when their vision cleared, they were holding instead the gun they kept hidden in the bookcase." ―_ _Kristin Hannah, Summer Island_

Her eyes snap open as soon as she hears the van door slide open outside, and boots hit the ground. The sound of dull thuds on the pavement, measured and efficient, approach. They are moving with precision and caution, not casual movements of another resident either going out to work or coming home from a long night out. Any other normal person would have shrugged the noise off and turn over to try and get another hour of sleep because it's barely dawn. A lifetime of experience forces her to roll out of bed to check the street.

She bolts from the bed. Crossing to the window, she checks the street and sees the combat ready team of five in full body armour on the buildings' front stoop. Quirking an eyebrow, she wonders when stealth became a lost art for military teams. Then again, there are times when you don't have time for subtly.

She spares another glance at their uniforms to identify them, but finds no insignia or anything to connect them with anyone official. Fabulous. Doesn't mean they're not working for any of the officials who publicly pardoned them yesterday.

Stepping back from the window, she spies Bruce doing the same in the living room. From his vantage point he can see more of the building than she can from the bedroom. Without acknowledging her, he holds up two fingers on one hand, five on the other. Two teams, five a piece. They both sigh.

They move in tandem. Bruce, already dressed, pushes a couple of books and the laptop into one f their packed go-bags as Natasha pulls on jeans and a hoodie over the tank and underwear she wore to bed. The gun from under her pillow tucks into her waist band. Socks and boots are next. Finally, she pockets her cell phone and within two minutes of first waking, she meets Bruce at the other window in her room, facing the rear of the building.

He hands her one bag and shoulders the other before sliding the window open for her.

"Such a gentleman," she says, earning a soft hum from him, slinging one leg out of the window. She checks the ground quickly for another squad and sees none.

Her body follows and she stands on the metal fire escape. She secures the bag on her back while scoping the alley, remembering why she chose this apartment. The maze of alleyways between the buildings, full of places to disappear and different routes out. It may not look like much from the front approach, like Bruce noted. But it is an invariable rabbit run of options and shelter which satellites even fail to truly convey what a labyrinth it is.

"Do you think we should at least find out what they want?" Bruce asks her conversationally while angling his body out of the window to join her on the small balcony. If this were any other day, she'd laugh at his sarcasm. Call it narcissism, yet there's only a small chance the retrieval squad is in the neighbourhood for anyone but them. There's an even smaller chance that they're here to take she and Bruce in peacefully.

"As much as I want to know who's eager enough to disturb us with a dawn chorus, I don't think my neighbours will appreciate a big, green wake up call."

"How courteous of you," Bruce deadpans.

"Why give them chance to goad us into a fight which they'll twist in their favour?" Natasha replies while moving swiftly down the metal staircase which creaked quietly despite her light footwork. It was too old to prevent no noise and too far to jump to the ground. There is no bite to her words, and she knows Bruce will appreciate her honest reflection based on her time on the run and will be able to identify with it himself. There is only one reason anyone would send such a weak force to apprehend the Hulk and the Black Widow and that is to use it to discredit them. "Stark or Steve would've called if they needed us."

Bruce follows close behind. Leading him down, she takes note of nimble he still is, and thinks no one gives him enough credit for situations like this.

He _lived_ this life.

He's adept at _dealing_ with this life.

Experienced his fair share of unwelcome, unannounced wake up calls before hooking up with the rest of the Avengers. He managed, for the most part, to stay one step ahead of a military trained retrieval squads which is more than impressive for someone who's untrained or unarmed. Fury may have sent Natasha to help keep Bruce free the first time he was on the run, except the scientist made her job easy with good instincts and adapting to his situation quickly. Evading and disappearing are skills Natasha appreciates, and Bruce excels in both. For someone who can be clumsy and nervous, he can blend into a crowd naturally as if taking on another persona like she does a cover. He would have been an asset rather than a detriment if he had been with her, Steve, Wanda, and Sam while they were on the run for the last year. She would have appreciated his company.

Reaching the last landing, Natasha sweeps her gaze over the deserted alley. One end leads to the main road, the other through the buildings. Yet she doesn't see or sense another team other than the one _knocking_ on her apartment door. It's sloppy by her standards, and she expects to encounter at least one team during their escape from the labyrinth of paths. Her hand closes around the ladder release and squeezes. Metal grates on metal as it slides to the ground.

Natasha levers herself onto the first rung as the dull boom resonates through the building. She climbs down quickly; Bruce close behind her and she drops to the ground, moving aside for him to do the same. Shadows cover the road so she turns before the operatives notice them. Once they both hit the ground they don't exchange verbal cues; reading each other is what they do best when communicating. Her instincts are screaming at her to move. She trusts Bruce, to follow her, to work with her.

They disappear into the alleys. She memorised them years ago when she set up the apartment. They're narrow, yet the buildings are tall and cast shadows to cover them. Even if they were observing from the air, it'd be difficult to pin point their exact location without thermal imaging.

She navigates the urban corridors swiftly while Bruce follows. Neither talk, the sound of their breathing loud in her ear as she hones her senses to pick up any sound indicating the presence of a retrieval squad.

Somewhere behind them another boom resonates. Instinctively, she knows it's the bedroom door. Within seconds she expects to hear boots thundering down the fire escape.

There is no way they haven't drawn attention from the residents, but they're probably too perturbed after recent events to bother intervening, if they care at all. Natasha doesn't blame them for desensitising to sight of people being pursued by militants, and probably assume it's for the greater good. Moreover, there's already been too much bloodshed, and she'll be damned if she allows a bystander be hurt defending them. Her vision skirts the layout, her heartbeat thumping in her head. She slows her breathing despite pushing forward to clear her mind. She curses herself for not setting up a secondary bolthole nearby.

They pause at the corner, check it's clear then round it. They duck behind a dumpster when they hear a glass bottle drop and smash further up the alley. Natasha peaks around the bin to see a tabby cat leap over the mess it made. Moving out from the shelter of the dumpster, she and Bruce walk surely through the alley littered with bins which back on to neighbourhood restaurants and take out places.

She breathes in relief for a second, exchanging an eye roll with Bruce.

She feels the air change as she realises the cat has disappeared, and the operatives get too close to hide their approach.

Footsteps pound the pavement, strong and rhythmic. From both sides. Natasha feels them approach, her hand curling around the butt of the gun at her waist as she catalogues the other weapons she has. The two knives in her sleeves, two at her waist, one in her boot and her spare gun strapped to her ankle.

A hand closes around her wrist and she locks eyes with Bruce as she shakes off her automatic response. He looks at her pointedly and half shrugs.

Of course, she also has Bruce. Except there are too many variables to risk him changing in a fight. They're too closed in, and it wouldn't be practical. She doesn't want any of this on his conscience. The Big Guy isn't exactly incognito, even if he comes to their aid, he'll make it difficult to escape without anyone tracking them. As successful as the Lullaby is, it won't work in the middle of a situation

She counts six sets of footsteps before they pause. A muffled exchange follows as they confer via radio. She keeps eye contact with Bruce as she coils in anticipation. His hand drops from her wrist and he nods. He knows this will weigh heavily on her later.

A smoke canister is deployed from the right. A flash bomb is similarly tossed from the left and lands about a meter away as she pushes away from the dumpster. She is thrown back slightly into Bruce who braces her before the first shadow appears in the mist, gun pointing straight at them.

Bruce tenses and moves to cover her, except she is already gripping the gun and dragging the operative to her. In a swift move, she pushes the gun out of the way and the heel of her hand smashes into his throat. The agent slumps over with a groan muffled by the protective gear covering his mouth, relinquishing his primary weapon to Natasha.

She glances to where she senses Bruce is, though she can't see through the thick fog now surrounding them. Grunts and a distinct thud emanate as shadows move in the smoke. She has no chance to reach out to him as another agent appears in front of her. She dodges their punch, uses their movement to tip their balance so she can land a blow to their shoulder to force them to go down. Their leg swings out and takes hers out from under her. Her back hits concrete but she doesn't think about the cold hard concrete or the residual rubbish around the dumpster her head missed by mere centimetres. She recovers quicker than her assailant who is slightly winded by the drop. She grabs his wrist as her legs wrap around his arm and her boots find his helmet. He struggles for a moment before she snaps his head to the side, hearing the break, as his body stops moving.

From her position she sees shoes on the ground below the mist as Bruce fights with another agent. At least he's managing to hold his own without going green. Natasha isn't idle for long as she rolls her legs over her stomach so she vaults to a standing stance. She listens for movement aside from Bruce's tussle but she can't discern anything with the pounding in her ears. She's certain there are more coming yet she won't leave Bruce's side. Feeling for the wall, she flattens herself against the bricks and edges toward the corner for a clearer view. The smoke is beginning to dissipate but she can't clearly see Bruce as one of them connects with the dumpster hard enough to move it. The wheels screech in protest as it rolls down the alley.

Deciding to intervene, Natasha pushes off into the grey haze. She hears Bruce struggling, his rapid breathing is a giveaway to her. She knows what he's going through and expects to hear the ripping of fabric any second now. Instead of turning toward the heavy breathing, she moves toward the dark shadow moving in on Bruce as he changes. The unsuspecting agent is clearly naïve over what happens next or just wants to try his luck against the Hulk. Using his distraction to her advantage, Natasha slides her fingers into the space between their neck and shoulder and pinches till they succumb to unconsciousness, slipping to the floor.

Sensing a looming presence behind her, Natasha turns as the large green body filters through the din, stepping out of the fog clearing around him. "Hey Big Guy," she drawls with a soft smile.

Then the hail of bullets rains down them from above. Hulk pulls her to him, sheltering her from the line of fire as she bolts upright in bed with a gasp. She closes her eyes, still able to feel Hulks' smooth skin against her cheek and the residual smell of the smoke bomb fills her senses. She breathes in as the dream slips away and she focuses on her surroundings. The slight breeze from the cracked window, the feel of the sheets on her, anything to ground her.

Her hands brace the mattress as the comforter slips to her waist. She sighs as the lingering sleep drifts away as she blinks her eyes open again and she's surrounded by the walls of her apartment. She wipes her eyes and looks up to find Bruce in the doorway, obviously drawn by the sound of her sudden rising. His initial worry is replaced by a thoughtful appraisal as he leans against the door jamb.

"The usual?" He enquires carefully, unfazed by the situation. He's probably one of the few people who has more nightmares than she does.

She nods. "Our current circumstances added an interesting twist."

His expression wans at her explanation. And she realises he thinks she means _their_ circumstances not just the locale. She looks down at the comforter as she starts to correct herself. "Can't stop thinking about running away, even when you're not on the run anymore."

Bruce softens sympathetically. "Unfortunately, I think that's one thing which will haunt us for the rest of our days." He pauses when the kettle whistles over his shoulder and he glances between her and kettle.

Natasha enjoys his little look of indecision and takes in his relaxed appearance. Dressed in a tee, a towel slung over one shoulder, sweats and bare feet, he looks quite comfortable in her dwelling. Behind him, sunlight filters through the window in the living room.

"Is there enough tea for the two of us?" Natasha asks casually. Tea is his favourite, while she usually sticks to coffee, strong and black, yet they developed a routine of drinking a cup of each in the morning while they were living in the Tower. She bought the pack of tea bags on a whim when she was last at the apartment, because she missed Bruce, and because everything else was falling apart.

"Of course there is," comes his warm response. Their eyes meet as he walks backwards, having already memorised the path to the kitchen.

Natasha pushes aside the comforter as he turns to pour the water into the cups he's prepared. The last remnants of her dream slip away as she gets out of bed, and her feet find the cold floor. Wearing his borrowed shirt, she follows him.

Bruce does a double-take as she approaches, clearly tickled at the sight of her wearing his clothes. It really is comfortable to sleep in, more than anything else she has here. She leans against the counter, much like she did the night before until her stomach rumbles loudly causing him to aim a raised eyebrow at her torso.

"I thought you were making breakfast," she grumbles playfully.

"I will once you point me in the direction of a food store," Bruce replies. "Have you thought about what you want to do while we're here? Or are we supposed to just wait for Tony and Steve's call?"

"Being benched for a while doesn't mean we have to be rooted to the spot," Natasha suggests cryptically. None of the others know where they are, only to contact them through Natasha's cell. "Except the last time I lived in DC, I bunked in SHIELD living quarters. The rest of the time, I was away on assignment," Natasha shrugs, at a loss for ideas.

Their road trip was rather impulsive, and she didn't want to think about what would or could happen inside a three-room apartment for an undetermined amount of time, with just her and Bruce. She's not the type to take in tourist attractions even when society isn't on high alert for invading aliens, or other forces trying to control them. But if any of the team is going to be able to keep a low profile in public, it's them. It's been a long time since she was able to kick back and relax without anyone chasing her. Though she's always had a problem with being able to relax.

"We didn't really think this through, did we?" Bruce says gently.

"Not really," she agrees, her stomach rumbling again. "First, I need food."

* * *

Less than an hour later, they leave the car outside the apartment; choosing to walk through the neighbourhood and survey their surroundings with their own eyes. Finally dressed in his own clothes, Bruce looks more like his regular self and it shows in his slightly more confident stride as they walk side by side to the store. Natasha feels better for not having to put on a suit or even her cat suit. Simple jeans and sweater under her jacket suffice for the cool early morning stroll.

Still early, the sun just glimpses over the horizon. Not many people are on the streets, most are either asleep or getting ready to face the new day. A few residents venture out to their cars to carry on with life as normal, or at least trying to put on a brave face with what counts as normal these days. Fortunately, none of them pay any attention to Natasha and Bruce.

It's a short walk to the convenience store. At the end of the road, they turn left and the entrance is only a couple of hundred metres from the corner. The tinkle of the bell announces their arrival, as Natasha enters first, with Bruce flanking her after picking up a wire basket for their shopping.

Going down the fresh food aisle, bread and apples make their way into the basket. Milk joins it as well some eggs. Natasha veers off toward the tea and coffee, while Bruce finds a rotating wire stand for books. She manages to find a pack of his favourite tea before re-joining him by the novels. She slips it into the basket, and eyes the two books Bruce is deciding between, the basket handles resting in the nook of his elbow. The way he goes through books, he'd manage to finish both in a couple of days. Aside from them, he's got his research he could return to. She doesn't have anything aside from her phone to distract her. She doesn't feel like exchanging stories from the last two years, and she doesn't want to know what adventures he got up to on another planet without her. From what he has told her, he'd rather forget it ever happened.

Eyeing the selection, she looks for a book herself to keep busy, bypassing the trashy romance novels and picking a crime novel before Bruce puts another in her line of vision. She scoffs a little at the cover, sporting a silhouette of woman with a gun. A spy novel.

"You can have fun pointing out all of the inaccuracies," Bruce explains. She smirks and tosses it in the basket.

A pack of cards on the shelf beyond the stand catches her eye and on impulse, she puts it with the rest of their shopping. Feeling another weight in the basket, Bruce looks down past the books.

"We can play poker," she informs him.

"With your poker face? That's not exactly playing fair," he complains with a groan. "You bluff for a living. It'll be like challenging the Other Guy to an arm wrestle."

"If you're lucky, you could try to win your shirt back," she winks at him, as she adds a travel chess set to appease him. If he thinks he has no chance against her at poker, her chess skills are no match. Though hustling him might pass the time.

Bruce eyes her sceptically and adds the book in his left hand to their purchases without another glance.

They make their way to the counter, adding a few toiletries as they go. They stand behind an old lady busy taking her time choosing more lottery scratch cards, with the meagre winnings from the last batch. The door tinkles again and Natasha glances at the guys' shadow passing through in reflex. Instantly on alert, she watches the hooded figure disappears into the first aisle. Bruce catches her eye sparingly as she senses him tense too.

Her ears train themselves on the gait of the new shopper, listening to the sure footing and even steps. Quick, confident, easy to spot. Obvious. Recognisable. She breathes out evenly and gives a subtle shake of her head to Bruce, though she doesn't relax. They stop to pick up something from the sweets section then casually line up behind Natasha and Bruce, hefting the bag of M and M's in their hand.

"Sorry to gate crash the party," Fury informs them as if he's telling them the sky is blue. "But the honeymoon is over. Ross is mobilizing."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author Note – Thanks for the reviews. Hope I wasn't too cruel with that cliffhanger :D**

 **Special thanks to my beta, Black' Victor Cachat.**

From the Ashes

Chapter Six - Survival Instincts

" _Sometimes it is good to fly close to the flame, see and experience the heat, but then fly away again, to survive, more wise in the art of heat." ―_ _Robert Black_

Bruce only has a restricted view of the road as he, Natasha, and Fury hunker down in the back of the blacked-out van driven by Maria Hill who pulled up as soon as they left the convenience store – their shopping discarded at the counter. Fury slid the side door open and ushered them in while his second in command kept the motor running so they could pull away quickly. Though no one would be able to recognise the public face of the SHIELD hearings as she's dressed in overalls coupled with a wig and a holographic mask, portraying her as a man to those they pass.

He'd barely managed to climb in before Hill announced men emerging from Natasha's street, obviously canvassing the area for Bruce and Natasha after presumably discovering an empty apartment. He realises the kettle he used to make tea would still be warm, and his blankets would still be messy from where he left them on the sofa. He had sloppily left signs behind and he expected the team to remain in place till it was evident he and Natasha won't return.

It was sheer coincidence, or dumb luck, Ross's retrieval squad missed them, or that Hill and Fury invaded the little privacy they managed to achieve in Natasha's apartment. Bruce doesn't envy any of them answering to Ross over their near miss – they shouldn't be working for the man. Apparently, no one had arrived to observe them before the squad moved in to see them enter the convenience store. Therefore, their swift exit went undetected.

Bearing that in mind, the team seemed rather small and fairly unprepared. Surely Ross would've prepared more to apprehend himself and Natasha; at the very least strategically placed armoured vehicles throughout the neighbourhood to deal with the Hulk if necessary.

Bruce keeps an eye on the calm way Hill is driving, envying such a skill while admiring the way she is careful not to draw any attention. She manages to clear the area as another military vehicle rounds the corner. In the back of the van, Fury settles against the back of the front seat, staying low as he checks with Hill about any developments in a low voice. Neither offer any information to their passengers, even though he and Natasha listen intently to details. The former assassin's face is blank as she absorbs the information as if it's a mission briefing.

Hill navigates a roundabout, and Bruce has to brace himself with hand on the floor of the van, only for it to land on something squishy. Looking down he sees his and Natasha's bags which they left in the apartment. Next to them Bruce sees another, larger duffel.

"Hill cleared the apartment after we saw you two head out," Fury informs him when he notices Bruce's stumble. "I kept watch from a distance."

The scientist hates the sly implication which is always present in the man's tone. He followed them, saw the playful moment in the convenience store. Catching them in a careless moment is one thing, being called on it is another. Natasha was slowly warming up to him again, and now their little oasis is truly shattered.

"Breaking and entering aside, I can always appreciate a considerate abduction, Boss, but care to explain why you scooped us up off the street in broad daylight, and why Ross is pissed now," Natasha says settling with her back against the wall, her knees drawn into her chest. Probably the best position to be in with the lack of seat belts.

"I got a pre-dawn tip off about a retrieval squad being deployed in the area, thought I'd check it out," the bald man tells them, like it explains everything.

"How did you know where we were?" Bruce asks, knowing it's a silly question because the last time they saw each other Fury was officially dead. He doubts the Government would welcome the former SHIELD director back with open arms even after organising the evacuation of Sokovia. None of the others mentioned Fury while they were in Wakanda, let alone his current status.

"I tracked the car," Fury says without a trace of shame for invading Natasha's privacy. "I'm not the only one, either. Ross went on the offensive last night, demanding that your pardon be rescinded with immediate effect. With it only being reinstated if you submit a blood sample and your research on the Hulk."

Fury's words ring true of Ross's past rhetoric, and Bruce isn't surprised by the quick U-turn. His former pursuer-slash-stalker can easily twist the situation.

"Wouldn't it be easier to access Roger's samples?" Natasha asks.

She has a point. Steve's blood samples have been around for nearly eighty years. Bruce even accessed them when researching the experiment designed to replicate those results, which ended with disastrous consequences and created the Hulk. Degradation might be an issue even with adequate storage conditions, especially if they have been moved from facility to facility. Though there are significant differences between his and Steve's conditions; Bruce requires a transition to shift into the Hulk, while Steve's strength and agility is constant, also Hulk is significantly larger and stronger than the Super-soldier. Ross could be interested in any combination of the dynamics, or he is too damn stubborn to give up on claiming the Hulk as property of the government. Bruce doesn't want to ponder the possibilities now, as his head is beginning to throb.

"I don't have the specifics, just as likely to be personal as it is strategic. Maybe he wants a fresh sample to work from," Fury replies. "We're toeing a fine line here. The pardons you were issued with yesterday won't protect any of you from your actions going forward. Ross's political standing will make it harder for Rogers and Stark to interfere. Especially with a functional plan to produce an army of Hulks, Ross could convince any or all of the relatives of Thanos's victims he has the answer to the planet's defence problems. Never mind that we still don't know where he is, and we'd just be aiming an army of berserkers and hoping for the best. Grief is easy to sway and manipulate."

"I knew those pardons were too good to be true," Bruce quips with a shake of his head. He catches Natasha's sympathetic head tilt. "Are the others safe?"

"He's not interested in them, not anymore." Fury answers. "As far as I know, his focus is on you, unless the Avengers decide to get between him and you. And he's keeping it on the down-low, Stark and Rogers don't know anything."

"Then we tell them, get this out in the open before Ross does," Natasha tells him pointedly.

Bruce sighs, wondering how his life managed to rewind itself by six years overnight. The last thing he wants is to include anyone else in his battle with Ross. His stomach flips and bile burns his throat as it begins to rise. "It's just me he's after?" Bruce clarifies, already knowing the answer before Fury nods; his brain already working on an ever-ready contingency plan.

"Only a handful of people know what he's demanded. And he was shut down by the President and his advisors."

"He's gone rogue and do this himself," Natasha surmises from the other side of the van. Bruce can see it's on the tip of her tongue to ask about his source, except he knows the question will go unasked and unanswered. Besides, she trusts her mentor's instincts, and knows he wouldn't do anything without a credible threat. "I want to know where he found the men to pull this off."

"He's resourceful," Fury explains. "You, Rogers and Wilson gave him the run around for a year and embarrassed him. His credibility is shot with the President; he's being held responsible for breaking up the Avengers and not acting quickly enough when there was an alien threat." He sighs. "But he was tipped over the edge when no one took him seriously when he advised against giving you all a free pass. Especially when he was ignored over his concerns about the Hulk. Obviously this is all being kept under wraps with the hope of rebuilding public trust and _your_ trust. The President realises you are all crucial to Earth's survival, meaning Ross was told to keep his distance."

"Another reason we shouldn't tell Steve and Tony, they need to concentrate on Thanos not Ross," Bruce points out.

"You're a team Banner, you all need to focus on Thanos," Fury reminds him. Bruce concedes the point with a bob of his head. "I've organised alternative transport, and a safe house for you till Ross is neutralised," Fury continues as the van slows, bouncing lightly over a speed ramp.

The apartment has been burned, there's no way he or Natasha can return. He wonders how thorough Hill was when she cleared the rooms, seeing as Natasha never mentioned Fury's right-hand knowing about the apartment.

The van dips on an angle as Hill manoeuvres the vehicle into an underground structure, Bruce's view is rather limited from his ducked position and he's only able to note when the natural sunlight replaced by spaced out emergency lighting through the windshield. Hill presses the brakes, yet she doesn't stay in the van to listen to the rest of the conversation. Instead she shuts the engine off, and slips out, quietly shutting the door behind her. She's silent, but Bruce still senses her presence as her moments are shadows across the windscreen as she works outside the vehicle.

"What do you have planned? You can't risk exposing yourself," Bruce asks the man intent on disappearing. "Or are you going to wait to see this play out?"

"Which could take a while if Ross rallies sympathisers," Natasha points out, her tone completely neutral. This is just an everyday occurrence.

"Not if he's been planning this all along."

Natasha had suspected the same thing while Bruce was on Sakaar, except then there wasn't an imminent risk from a powerful alien overlord to generate mass panic. He's got endorsement from some people with a lot of money, their resources alone could buy whatever mercenaries Ross needed to put this operation together at the last minute. Ross would have vet them personally. Despite that, word still got back to Fury which means his source is within Ross's ranks.

"If he did, he was careful not to fixate on you, unless it was in association to the others while you were elsewhere Doctor," Fury replies. "There are those who think we can stop all of the attacks by detaining all those with powers. The right words, to the right people, Ross can have their backing to manipulate the masses."

"Going public could weaken his position, unless he has me in custody and a viable Hulk under his control. He was standing side by side with the President yesterday, absolving us of crimes, of Johannesburg. It's dangerous for him to go back on a double-standard," Bruce assesses. "Why are _you_ helping me?"

"You're an asset Banner," Fury answers with an edge of entitlement. "One who should willingly help, rather than be forced."

"Or coerced," Natasha adds with a pointed glance at her boss.

It could be his paranoia kicking in, but Bruce is quickly reverting to his survival instincts, wondering who to trust, and who's an ally. Fury's track record isn't perfect. His motivation to protect the planet comes above all else, even those who blindly follow his strategy. Bruce appreciates the man's honesty when it comes to this, as he may live in the shadows without ever stepping forward to claim any praise for his tireless campaign to maintain a relative world peace. Even after being caught off guard by the HYDRA uprising from within his own ranks. While they have the same goal, Bruce knows Fury rarely does anything without it being to further his underlying agenda, which means Bruce and Natasha fit somewhere into his grand plan. Which Bruce has issue with; no one is privy to Fury's plans until they're already in motion, and you're three steps behind the man.

Every muscle in Bruce is screaming at him to grab the handle on the van's back door, push it open and run, and keep running till he's declared dead again. Though his adrenaline is accelerating, his breathing is consistent enough to temper the flares of his heartbeat. He doesn't consider himself a coward, he's just cautiously reluctant with good reason. Survival and fighting are intertwined, yet there's a difference, you don't always have to fight to survive. Bruce believes in standing up for what he believes in, yet it doesn't have to resort to drag out fight. He doesn't want it to turn into one based on speculation and propaganda. Until they know Ross's plan, they have nothing to counter.

He can fight this, physically he's more than capable. In this form, he's not in the same league as Natasha or Steve, though he can deflect a hit, he can throw a punch and land it effectively, he's agile and has stamina. Unfortunately, he's not mentally or emotionally strong enough to go through this conspiracy all over again. He's not ruthless enough. He could argue his innocence against whatever Ross throws at him, he has his own witnesses and friends who will back him. Except unlike Ross or Fury, Bruce will not sacrifice those closest to him while fighting for himself in what will inevitably be a dirty fight. They've all got secrets, and there is no doubt in Bruce's mind that Ross will drag it out into the open once more with the appropriate spin.

He doesn't want to infect others with his own recrimination. Natasha especially. His feelings – attraction isn't an adequate description, because that can be assigned to most people who meet her – for her are painfully obvious to those closest to them. He wants nothing more than to shield her from what's to come. She's his weakness, _and_ his strength to overpower Hulk. Ross might have a fleeting interest in her, but Bruce will do anything to prevent Ross learning about the Lullaby, because then she'll be in as much danger as he is.

"Maybe I should've taken Thor up on his offer." There's no conviction in his voice, yet he catches Natasha's cool stare, annoyingly unreadable. "There isn't much we can do from a safe house," he tells her. "Ross will twist your presence and your source, whoever you use to help me to justify working without sanction from the President or the UN, because there's obviously a leak in Ross's team, requiring him to work outside the system. He'll use any interference to his advantage."

"We should warn Stark and the others of what's about to happen," Natasha advises.

Bruce nods, noting she hasn't included herself with the others. She's already planning to stay with him regardless of what he has to say on the matter. He is fully aware this will affect all of them, whether they are with him or not. Ross has the potential to create another war between the team and the authorities. Bruce is determined not to let it get that far, nor allow the rest of the team to face the consequences of a personal grudge against him.

Fury slides a bag along the floor of the van, the contents clanging together until it collides with Natasha's and Bruce's feet in the middle of the confined space. Natasha reaches for it first, while Bruce looks at it hesitantly unsure if he can actually comprehend what this means for them let alone do what they have to.

The zipper is louder than the vibrations of the wheels or any passing vehicles as Natasha opens it to dig around in the reinforced bag, pulling out a cell phone and stack of documents and passports in a clear envelope. Without a second glance she transfers the papers into her duffle while casually asking Fury, "Is this another way to track us, Boss, or peace offering?"

"Why can't it be both Romanoff?" Fury answers, with a teasing lilt in his deep voice. His assessing stare flitters over Bruce, knowing what he's thinking, what he's going to do. "Safe house details are in the phone."

They are sitting in the back of a van talking about hiding, running like it's already a full-blown conclusion. If he were leading an average life, this situation would be mind-blowing. Unfortunately, this is not his first time doing this. Part of him craves those days when he didn't have to contemplate exit strategies. He agrees in principle with everything they're saying, except his plan is a solo one. Which will mean breaking his promise to stay.

"What's the plan?" Natasha asks.

"You two lay low, either at the safe house I've arranged, or somewhere you feel safer untill we—"

"Or we could just tell him about Hulk refusing to fight," Bruce finally finds his voice.

Two sets of eyes fall on him. He feels a little triumphant at the smidgen of incredulity in Fury's eyes. Finally, something the man doesn't know. The feeling dwindles quickly as the true disconnect between Natasha and Fury dawns on Bruce. Before, the other man would've known all about Bruce's new state of performance anxiety. This proves to Bruce exactly the ties the Avengers cut when they went on the run with no support. Fury's position was still as murky as ever before Bruce left, but he thought the other man would've assisted Natasha if he could. He has a habit of emerging from the woodwork when everything falls apart, this morning being a perfect example, yet Fury was notably absent from all stories told by the others while they were in Wakanda. Bruce wonders if he thought the internal disputes was something they could settle between themselves.

"And hope Ross backs off?" Natasha neutrally clarifies, except he can see the doubt in her expression.

"It's not a solid plan, but it wouldn't be a lie," Bruce points out. The best lies often have an element of truth to them. "We can get Rogers and Stark can inform the President directly; two witnesses with credibility. Won't take long for word to spread to Ross, exposing his sources in the process," Natasha points out.

"It's not?" Fury asks carefully.

"He only decided to help at the last minute in Wakanda," Natasha explains.

"I don't what's going on with Hulk. All I know is when I first arrived back on Earth, I was overwhelmed with fear. Not just mine, Hulk's too." Bruce pauses. "He's never faced that kind of power before."

Even Natasha raises her eyebrows at that. Yes, he's neglected to share that information before because they were too busy trying to find a way to beat the Titan and he hadn't had the time to process it himself.

"Look I kept trying to transform during the battle, but he was fighting me every step of the way," Bruce sighs. "We made a blanket statement about what happened in Wakanda, which included details that I used the Hulkbuster. No footage was released to the media. There's been no word on Hulk's involvement, people have just assumed based upon my presence," he continues imploring the other man to back the idea.

It is flimsy at best yet tangible, and based on the truth. He has no doubt Ross will dismiss it, devising a way test his and Hulk's resolve. Ross doesn't need to believe it, the public do. He doesn't really want to keep explaining his unexpected role reversal with Hulk, simply because he can't. It may mean being put on display like Victorian circus act to prove it (possibly involving some sort of life-threatening scenario, anything so long as the Other Guy plays his part), but public sway is important at times like these.

"Must be tough for Hulk to return to a planet which wants to put you in cage."

"In this team, that isn't exclusive to him," Natasha answers stonily.

"Maybe he needs reminding of that," Fury replies before Bruce can. "Do you think you can convince Ross?" Fury asks.

"Not a chance," Bruce answers honestly. "But we're not trying to convince him, it's his peers and the public. We say something happened while I was on another planet, also a partial truth."

Natasha's head is tilted to the side, contemplating his proposal and its merits. He expects her to dismiss it because it's a long shot. "You hate being exposed," she comments finally.

"A private demonstration with the President and top military personnel is doable," Fury advises to appease the other occupants of the van. "If you think Hulk will play along with rigorous testing."

"You mean like a firing squad?" Bruce tries to joke, only for it to receive a blank look from Natasha and Fury, while Hill clears her throat loudly outside. Not even a firing squad would satisfy Ross unless it ends with him standing over Bruce's dead body on a cold slab.

Bruce doesn't really care about anyone's reaction except Natasha's, and he's finding it difficult at seeing past her mask in Fury's presence. His pledged to stay and fight Thanos when he returned, taking a back seat to the fight or flight war response taking place in his brain.

Hill opens the rear door of the van, finally allowing them to see they are in an underground parking lot. Natasha clambers out before anyone can propose any other methods Ross could hypothetically use to test him. Even as he thinks it, he feels the Other Guy prickling inside of him, though there is no low rumble to accompany it. Just a quiet, lacklustre reminder of his alter ego's presence.

Fury follows Natasha, waiting for Bruce to join them at the car Hill was preparing while Fury explained the situation. The sight of two dark sedans parked side by side in the next bays greets Bruce as he emerges into the fluorescent light. The plain and generic cars are designed to fit in with the mainstream, but Bruce worries it'll be for naught as a perimeter could've been set up by now by the men working for the Secretary of State. He looks around the deserted carpark; noting the absence of other vehicles, except for the three in their corner, oddly positioned near a cluster of support pillars, making it difficult to see from the exit or the stairwell entrance leading to the other floors.

Hill hands keys and a satnav to Natasha, "In case they set up stop and search points, this will track all road blocks in the city."

"What are you two going to do?" Bruce asks, relieved and anxious to be separated from the two former SHIELD director and deputy.

"Try to neutralise Ross," Fury informs him as he opens the second car's driver door. "I'll inform my source to leak the information back to the President of Hulk's stage fright, but without a definitive demonstration, I can't promise anything."

Bruce nods, grateful at the sincere tone to his voice. Natasha takes another bag from Hill, checks its contents with an eye roll, and puts it on the back seat of their car. Natasha knew the other woman well enough to expect her to add a few weapons to the go bag. Bruce eyes it doubtfully for a moment before opening the driver's side. There's a brief pause before Fury crooks his head at Natasha to beckon her to the side for a quiet word. Hill seems unaffected, so Bruce figures the two need a minute and does his best to ignore them.

"If someone in need tries to push you away, you find the strength to hold on tighter," Fury advises under his breath, as Banner lingers in the background.

"Careful Boss, you'll get a reputation if you give up on subtly altogether," Natasha deflects easily, while her arms fold across her chest. It's only partially petulant, yet the look Fury sends her is the same look Barton gives Lila when the little girl does the same thing.

"We don't have time for subtle Romanoff, Banner's a proven flight risk. If we didn't have Hill to watch him during our pep talk, he'd be half way down the block."

She hates that he's right. He's got a perfect read on her and the man hovering by the other car. Bruce is on the brink of falling apart, and she can feel him fidgeting from meters away. She needs to get him moving, because being stationary will do nothing to calm him. She's half tempted to attempt a Lullaby on him, except she knows it will be a fruitless effort. He's too far gone. Maybe it would be easier if the Big Guy took over for a bit; he'd have the frame of mind to trust her to take care of him, and get him somewhere safe, instead of trying to shake her like Bruce is planning.

He was dying, not in the literal sense, when they first came together. Alone, no one cared if he disappeared, or withered and died. The earth thought they'd be better off if he did even; less risk, less collateral damage.

"What do you get out of this?"

Fury exhales, unoffended by the question, unashamed by his reasons. "I get a team who saves the world." A pause for effect. "All worlds as it turns out. Maybe a happy ending."

"It's not like that," she whispers.

"The Lullaby still works?" Fury asks with a raised eyebrow. Natasha nods without meeting his eyes.

She doesn't want to discuss the Lullaby with Fury, whether this was his intention at the beginning or not. She's not ashamed, it's private, and not something she wants to divulge to her former employer who put everything aside for a life in the shadows. Fury has been a mentor to her, and at one time she tried to emulate his outlook on the state of the world.

Neither she nor Bruce appreciate how easy it is for everyone around them to be painfully aware of their feelings for one another. She's pretended in the past, playing the part with so many marks, but the Hulk would sense any lie instinctively, rendering the Lullaby useless. It works because they genuinely care for one another. It was unexpected, but that doesn't change the fact that what they feel is real and tangible. She found difficult to identify the confusing emotions until they had taken hold completely, then felt uncomfortable to accept, let alone broach. She was taught these emotions get you killed; she was trained to supress and fight them. Even after dismantling so much of the Red Room's programming, her feelings for Bruce was difficult to acknowledge and act upon.

Yet, she didn't regret opening herself up to him.

She still remembers how his lips fit against her own, sweet and soft, and over before either could get used to the sensation. Of course, that description could sum up their short dalliance before she was forced to end it. Before she pushed him.

Despite that, Bruce came home to help, willing to do whatever the team needed him to. She's not going to let Ross take either him or Hulk. If the Secretary was somewhat reasonable, who approached Bruce without being overbearing and with a sense of entitlement, who actually listened to Bruce's decisions, this wouldn't escalate as quickly as it has. Overnight, Ross managed to coordinate an attack without the explicit sanction of the President who pardoned them all less than a day ago. Depending on who is involved in Ross's plan, the tenuous peace-treaty the whole team hashed out with the military is at risk.

"I'm not going to force either of them," Natasha states clearly. "Banner is willing and able to adapt. I think it'd be counter-productive to try to convince Hulk to do something he doesn't want to do."

"Why doesn't he want to do it?"

"He wasn't exactly forthcoming during his brief appearance," Natasha huffs out. She told Bruce she'd stay out of it, but she's curious and worried about the Big Guy. Her connection to him is different to the one she has with Bruce, yet just as important to her. It's fundamental and there's a sense of loyalty which goes both ways.

"Hulk messed up, he's a guy," Fury states unapologetically. Natasha rolls her eyes. "I can only assume he thought leaving was the best thing for everyone involved. He's probably too embarrassed to admit he was wrong."

"Can everyone just mind their own business? You do realise that your attempts to help and advice only undo the tentative steps we've made ourselves?" She snaps with a sigh.

This is partly his fault: he set them up in the first place. Whether he banked on Bruce and the Hulk being able to crack her defences or not, that's what happened. "There's always going to be a choice between them and the job, and you know what my answer will be."

"It's not always about the job, Romanoff."

She scoffs at that. "And we've got work to do Boss."

With that she turns on her heel to return to Bruce as he paces next to their vehicle while Hill prepares the other spare car for herself and Fury. The other woman lifts her head and acknowledges her with a curt nod before slipping into the passenger seat while Fury's gets behind the wheel. Seconds later, their car reverses out in a tight curve before driving off in the direction of the exit. She feels Bruce move into her peripheral.

"I would like it noted that I'm not the only one with friends who have boundary issues," he tells her without preamble, covering the mouth piece so the others don't hear.

Her head bobs in agreement, knowing he's talking about Stark, presuming the billionaire gave Bruce his two cents on their relationship at the memorial and wonders how that little pep talk went, considering the state of her relationship with Stark. Time is moving fast, and she feels like they are stationery targets, whether it be for Ross or their friends encouraging their reconciliation. That was the whole point of having time together.

"Speaking of, we should call Stark, tell them what's going on," Natasha says. "Figure out where we go from there."

"You're right," Bruce agrees dragging out one of the burners from the bag.

While he's dialling, Natasha drops to the floor and cranes her head under the vehicle. Phone to his ear, Bruce paces in a small square outside the car Fury left for them. He ignores Natasha who is currently lying on the floor, her head under the car to examines it herself for bugs. His feet shuffle past hers as he makes another rotation. Tony's phone continues to ring relentlessly, or that's what it seems like to Bruce as he waits for his friend to answer. When he finally does, Tony sounds a little breathless.

"Hello?"

"Hey Tony, are you in the middle of something?" Bruce asks, missing his friends' usual jokey greeting but he's ringing from the burner so Tony didn't actually know Bruce was calling. Bruce is actually surprised Tony answered at all considering his screening process. Bruce hates having being the one to deliver this news, but it would be worse if he let anyone else do it. With the pressure he feels building in his skull he thinks _he's_ about to burst out yet Hulk stays deathly silent. Strangely, an inkling of contact from him would pacify Bruce with all of this.

"Buddy, we were just wondering how your road trip with Romanoff is going," Tony says into the receiver. Bruce envies the bright and easy tone Tony is able to project across the line.

"The road trip was fine, uh, but something's come up. Are you on a secure phone?"

"Give me a sec," Tony answers at the same time as key tones sound on their end. "By the way, you're on speaker. Just me and the reanimated Fossil, our wing men suited up to take a lap around the building to see who's the quickest." Bruce rolls his eyes before Tony says the next part. "They just need a measuring tape if you ask me."

"What happened?"

Comes Steve's voice from the background, immediately on guard and catching on to Bruce's turmoil. He doesn't sound too far away, with his enhanced hearing the super soldier would be able to hear the conversation whether he was right next to Tony or on the other side of the room regardless of Bruce being on speaker or not. He's grateful for Steve's questioning concern, centring his thoughts on the conversation rather than Tony's distracting attempts to cajole him.

"Ross."

Simple and to the point.

Bruce almost smiles at the mumble of words that Steve mutters, apparently their time on the run has made the usually proper loosen his rules on vocabulary.

"Hey Cap, there are ladies present. Want to watch that mouth?" Nat teases as she stands and brushes the dirt from her clothes.

"I learnt most of those words from you," Steve argues back only sounding a touch petulant.

Bruce sends her look and she shrugs innocently.

"At least one of us is a good influence on your bad side," Tony quips as he returns to the conversation. "We're good to go Bruce. What's Ross in a twist this time?"

"Me," Bruce admits. "Again."

In his mind he can see the other men exchange a look and a sigh.

"We're on our way," Tony announces after a long gap.

"No!" Bruce exclaims forcefully, causing Natasha to find his wrist with her fingers to track his pulse. "I don't want anyone to meddle. You should be focusing on Thanos not on my problems. At least this way, Ross won't be interfering with you if he's determined to bring me in."

"That's not as reassuring as you think it is," Tony informs him. "It'll be harder for him to make you disappear if you're here, with us. You'll be safer if you're in the public eye."

"Or he'll spin my absence and say I've decided to turn my back on the rest of you," Bruce argues. "You know better than that Tony."

"What about going to Wakanda till this is all settled?" Steve suggests.

"No," Bruce dismisses the idea. He's certain Shuri would grant him refuge again without hesitation but he doesn't want to impose and disrupt her first full day of ruling and repairing her country without their presence. "Shuri has her own things to deal with, I don't want force an international conflict because I'm hiding in Wakanda."

"We have your back Banner, we're coming to pick you guys up," Steve tries only for the scientist to shake his head even though they can't see him.

"It'll jeopardise your standing and pardons, Fury said they don't cover what we do from here on out," Natasha adds for Bruce's sake. Her fingers move over his wrist, gently soothing him. It's working, sort of. "Work this from there for us, see if he's influencing anything at the Facility."

"Wondering when he'd resurface here," Tony mutters. "Look, don't stay for you, stay for us. We need you Buddy," he adds a little louder. "If only to help separate me and Rogers when we finally begin to get on each other's nerves again."

He ignores Tony's good-natured attempt to break the tension and searches Natasha face for any doubt, finding none. They're not above emotional blackmail and, honestly, he wants to stay, he does. Maybe, just maybe they're right. "Okay," he agrees and gets three distinct sighs of relief. "But you two stay at the Facility, Natasha and I will come to you. That way, you might be able to gather more information on Ross while we drive back."

"Well prepare for your return, make sure there are only trusted personnel on shift when you get here," Tony promises. "Stay safe, we'll see you in a couple of hours."

He's about to disconnect when he remembers, "Oh, Tony, you might want to send someone to pick up your car. We had to abandon it."

"Sure thing Buddy." No jokes, nothing; just proving Bruce right about how serious this is.

Using a finger to scratch the corner of his eye, he turns to Natasha and clears his throat loudly.

"Maybe I should head out on foot, you take the car," he tells her. She eyes the tight grip he's got on the phone in his hand, the tight curl of his hands turning his knuckles white. She gently pries it from him. "You shouldn't get involved in this. Just drop me off somewhere, you carry on to the Facility, or to Barton's where you'll be safe," Bruce adds thickly, finally looking at her face. The fear radiates off him just like his concern for her does.

"I'm already involved Bruce, I'm not going to leave you at the side of the road," Natasha reminds him softly. "Aren't you the one who said if you leave, we'll probably never see each other again?"

"I'm not going to ruin your life because Ross decided to make an army out of me."

She scrunches her nose. "If you haven't noticed, I don't have much of one to ruin."

"You could be helping the others prepare for another attack, you could be safe with the Bartons. You should be doing anything but this," he tries again.

"Why are you so surprised that I am?"

He locks onto her face, sees the determination and worry as she holds his gaze. Her mouth opens to explain, yet only lets out a sigh. He deserves clarification, the scrunched brow and confusion in his eyes is endearing her to explain. She could tell remind him she would and has done the same for the other Avengers. Except it goes deeper than that. Their connection makes this daunting situation personal. The clenching in her chest feels like someone gripping her heart as she stares back at him having been caught out in an accidental slip.

"Natasha…" he breathes out softly, torn between relief and despair. He shuffles forward, leaving a small gap between them.

"I didn't stop caring because you left," she places a hand on the small patch of his chest just above the bag, just above his heart. It pounds under her touch. "I know you want to protect me, but you have to accept that it goes both ways, Bruce," she reminds him. "You promised me that you'd stay."

Unable to restrain himself, the bag drops to the floor as he closes the gap between them to let his forehead fall against hers. "Ross will use you against me," Bruce whispers.

She lets her eyes drift shut when his hands rest hesitantly at her waist. She shouldn't allow the contact, she should remain composed but she was compromised by her feelings for Bruce a long time ago. He lifts his head briefly only for his lips to brush her forehead. "Let him try."


	7. Chapter 7

**Author Note – My sincerest apologies, it's been a few months since I last updated. Originally, I began writing this chapter in November. But at the beginning of December I had a personal crisis which may have led to me find somewhere else to live. Essentially, I panicked. I wasn't in the best place and could barely concentrate so I took a break till the new year (and after I had a plan in place to resolve my crisis). To get back into the story I reread previous chapters and found some mistakes (not sure if this is a saving or upload issue) and bits I want to change or add scenes to. So, over the coming weeks I will be tweaking some chapters and I wanted to ask if you guys are happy for me to just replace chapters or delete and repost the entire story. If you a few minutes to spare at the end, let me know what you think.**

 **Special thanks to my beta Black' Victor Cachat.**

From the Ashes – chapter seven

" _You're my flame in the dark. We chase away the shadows around each other."―_ _Richelle Mead, The Indigo Spell_

Steve paces back and forth behind the kitchen island with a scowl on his face, while also tidying away the dishes from breakfast. On the opposite side of the island, Tony casually whizzes together the ingredients for his wheatgrass smoothie while trying to hide his smirk because he reorganised the kitchen after Steve moved out, making the Super Soldier's job to clean up a smidgen harder.

"You're going to wear a hole in the tile," Tony chides him unplugging the jug from his blender and pouring himself a glass. He settles onto the stool and pulls up the the newsfeed on his tablet. Steve stills immediately, turning on the other man.

"We're just going to stay here and do nothing? Like Nat and Banner asked?" Steve wonders out loud finally.

"I don't see the point of drawing more attention to ourselves," Tony informs him without looking up from tapping at things on the screen. "FRIDAY is running scans and hacking Ross as we speak, but the guy is basically a technophobe when it comes to anything which can't be weaponised." He makes a face. "I think he still makes notes with a pen," he adds as an afterthought.

The super soldier leans forward and braces the kitchen island as if to channel his frustration as he shakes his head. "Why didn't you tell me about the history between Banner and Ross?"

"Why didn't you already know?" Steve's lack of patience with Tony's stalling is clear on his face. In Tony's opinion, if Steve spent a little time listening to gossip, or delving into their personal histories online, he'd already have most of the facts and it would solve this issue. Except the man is too honourable for that. "Well, Ross was the military point of call when it came to Banner's attempt to recreate the Super Soldier experiment. The then-Colonel then led the manhunt after the accident, and the Big Guy ran." Tony pauses, adding almost as an afterthought, "Oh, and Banner almost married the man's daughter."

"What?" Steve questions, part wary, part indignant, part protective. Like a big brother.

"Before you get your panties in a bunch on Red's behalf, it ended a long time ago," the billionaire holds up a hand to defend his friend. "The young miss Ross was hurt during the accident, and Bruce blamed himself so he left his fiancé behind – something of a signature move for my Science Bro. She wanted to help find a cure but he wouldn't let her."

"Do you think we could get her to intervene with Ross?"

"Doubtful. She fell out with daddy dearest over the whole thing; they're estranged. Last I heard, Betty married, and Bruce is clearly still besotted with our dear assassin." Tony stares Steve dead in the eye. "They've both moved on."

"Ross hasn't," Steve sighs pointedly. "Banner is one of your closest friends, and you took sides with the guy who wanted him locked up," he accuses.

Considering his relationship with Barnes, Tony figures the first Avenger probably doesn't understand how his motives to side with Ross on the Accords has nothing to do with his relationship with Bruce. Tony's not proud about working with the man, but at the time Secretary of State Ross and the Accords had made sense to Tony, especially since the personal cost of Sokovia was weighing on him heavily.

Before and after Ultron.

He may not have been aware of Stark weapons being used on the town till after Maximoff explained her up close and personal account of sitting in rubble with an unexploded shell for two days, yet the guilt still ate him up inside.

Though Tony's conscience is clear when it comes to Bruce.

His loyalty to Bruce didn't falter once. He protected his friend's research, and didn't answer any of Ross's ambiguous questions, rare and vague enough to appear normal to a less paranoid person, thrown casually into conversations about their methods for working with Hulk in the field. Bruce's absence made it easier; Tony would've been more conflicted by the Accords if Bruce had been present and drawn into the fight, more than likely trying to keep the peace when the rift between the other Avengers divided the team because he would never take a side.

Thankfully it never came to that. Bruce was safe in space.

Space.

Huh.

He still can't quite wrap his mind around that one even though he's just returned from his own space jaunt himself.

He shrugs to stop his mind from wandering on that particular subject.

"Banner was gone, no one could find him. Not even Red, and it's her job to find people."

"I think we should've widened the search, given what we now know," Steve tries to joke.

"We thought he bailed, we all know he needed to." Tony shrugs again as he gives up on the tablet, laying it flat on the counter. "Natasha did too."

Steve is pensive as he nods slowly while eyeing Tony, understanding the double meaning in his words. "Do you think they'll figure it out? Nat and Banner?"

There's a little wistfulness in his question, hope for some happiness to come from Thanos bringing them back together. Pepper's held him a little tighter through sleepless nights since he came home, and he's almost desperate for her when he's restless in the dark. Natasha and Bruce are even more complicated than he is. He doesn't expect it to be simple for them, even though they deserve it for all they've been through and sacrificed. After all that has transpired, he can't bring himself to believe any of them will ever have that happily ever after.

"Being accidentally sucked through a wormhole should give a guy points," Tony tells Steve, although he doubts Natasha holds a grudge that Bruce left. Even when they thought Bruce walked away, there was a certain fondness in her expression and tone when she spoke about the other scientist. She appreciated their relationship for what it was, is, and her experience with Bruce and Hulk instead of being scornful for how it ended. The woman can put any mask on she wants, almost like a blank slate – the thing which unnerves Tony most about the woman- yet why would that affection show itself when the target of that affection was absent, unless it was real?

"'Points'?" Steve's questions brings him back to the conversation at hand.

"Yeah, like when your girlfriend is mad at you, and you need to make up for it…" Tony trails off his explanation as Steve raises an eyebrow at him, a smile forming as he fails to refrain from retorting.

"A scorecard for when you mess up?"

"Something you wouldn't understand," Tony fires back. Steve lips pull to one side and the brown-haired man clamps down on it. "Ah-ha, there it is, you know what I'm talking about." Steve bobs his head, covering his smile. "We'll get back to that later. Personally, I like to earn points for future consideration. Do things in advance so I can whip them out when I inevitably screw up."

"And that works?" Steve checks while trying not to laugh. "It's never backfired?"

"You know, there was this time when I bought Pep a giant bunny…" he goes quiet as he thinks about it. "You know, in hindsight, it would've worked better as an Easter present, rather than a Christmas present."

Steve scrunches his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose, his shoulders shaking with laughter. After a long moment, too long in Tony's opinion, he manages to regain composure. "We have to help them," he declares with difficulty.

"And we will," Tony agrees lightly. As if on cue, his interface dings with the results of FRIDAY's hacking of Ross's systems. He quickly scrolls through the results to find something useful to show Steve, which projects into the space between them with a quick flick of his hands. "We just have to wait for him to come to us," he points at the blueprint of the calendar, indicating Ross's itinerary for the day.

The living quarter's doors swing open and Tony just manages to flick the hologram away before Ross enters the room. The older man strides toward them without any preamble, his assistant moving behind him seamlessly, while concentrating on the phone in his hand.

"To what do we owe this…" Tony addresses Ross. "I was going to say pleasure, but you're not, are you, so I'll rephrase – why are you here?"

"President Ellis feels I am best versed in dealing with the Avengers," Thaddeus Ross answers gruffly.

"He's been misinformed," Steve bites out, his already tense muscles flexing slightly, daring the Secretary of State to answer him. But apparently Ross is playing nice and doesn't rise to the bait.

"I'm not here for a pissing contest Rogers, Thanos is our priority. We want him found and neutralised."

"And _you_ have a plan for that?"

"To ensure you have everything you need to accomplish that," Ross informs them smugly.

"Meaning the blame lies with us if we fail," Tony summarises. "Why am I surprised?"

Ross's assistant briefly looks up from his screen, his eyes darting from his boss to Stark before dropping back to his screen. His boss is nonplussed by Tony's sarcasm, having grown used to interacting with the billionaire.

"Where are the rest of the Avengers?"

"Right to it then," Tony quips as Steve moves around the island away from Ross toward him. "They took off while we negotiate terms."

"You let them leave while our planet is in a state of emergency? Do you have any guarantee they will come back? A little irresponsible of you not to know the whereabout of walking nukes."

"They're close, except we want to make sure they have a life on this planet once we've finished with Thanos," Steve returns.

"And every Avenger has agreed to return if we need them?" Ross questions, setting his jaw.

"Barton hasn't signed on the dotted line. Thor is leading his own hunt, and he'll report back when he has credible leads," Tony starts. "Banner and Romanoff are a phone call away."

Ross squints at the mention of the last two. "Last time I saw Banner, he wasn't ready to fight for the best interests of this country."

"Banner is on board," Steve defends their teammate while staring Ross down. "Hulk isn't."

"What are you talking about? The Hulk was with you in the field in Wakanda, fighting the invading aliens."

"You've been misinformed Ross," Tony explains with sigh. "The Big Guy refused to play; he faced off with Thanos in space, took a few good punches to the ribs according to Thor. He's refused to transform since. _Banner_ used the Hulkbuster in Wakanda, he helped design it after all," he tacks on pointedly.

To his credit, Ross digest the information without giving much away. The teeniest twitch of his jaw is the only thing which betrays him. That and the loud gulp emanating from his assistant. "You expect me to believe Banner survived on alien planets?" The aging military-turned-politician sneers.

"He survived you," Steve points out after a beat.

Ross moves forward half a step glowering at him, about to retort when his assistant balks at the screen of his phone, and taps the Secretary of State on the arm. When the older man acknowledges him, the assistant gestures at the phone with a panicked expression. "You have to take this."

Ross snatches the phone out of his hand and marches from the room with the assistant struggling to keep up.

* * *

"Gone?!" Thaddeus Ross barks at his phone; a few drops of spittle splatter the screen. His scowl turns into a grimace, before he refocuses on the squad leader he's chewing out via a video call. Colonel Richard Saunders was one of the first and best sympathisers who offered his services when Banner resurfaced during the Battle of New York. Ross wipes the screen with his thumb, ignoring the smears across the glass. "What do you mean 'gone'?!"

The stocky marine squares his shoulders, and lifts his chin automatically at the criticism. The man's a good soldier, Ross reminds himself. That realisation does nothing to quell his ire. Banner and Romanoff have disappeared, leaving no clue as to their next location.

"We searched the property, and they're not here, Sir," comes the succinct reply. "The kettle was warm, recently used. Bed unmade as well as a blanket and pillow on the sofa."

Ross rolls his eyes though files the information away in his mind for later. The sleeping arrangements were a detail he hadn't considered. He doesn't know why that point is important to Saunders; no one in their right mind would lay with Banner. The spy has been a thorn in his side, yet his interest, as it always has been, is in Banner. Thinking back, the scientist kept hovering close to the woman from the walk from the Wakandan jet to the ceremony, before standing close to her during the supposed celebration. Ross had thought nothing of it; the Avengers, registered and fugitives alike, behaved like a tight knit group providing a united front against the public and government. Even when they separated from the group, Ross was so distracted by the mere fact Banner was present he ignored them leaving together. "Do you think they'll return?"

"Unlikely Sir," Saunders remains clear and concise with his answers. "There's some women's clothes in the closet, but they're covered in dust. Other personal possessions are gone."

"Did they see you or your men?"

"No sir!" He looks mildly offended by the question, yet he doesn't let it affect his reply.

"At ease, Saunders," Ross sighs. The other man relaxes a fraction, except Ross can still see the tension coiled in his posture. "Don't underestimate Romanoff or Banner, they've been doing this for a long time Soldier. You could've been silent, and they would've heard you; their senses are attuned to being hunted," he explains to the younger marine with mercy in his voice. "You and your men head out, you'll draw too much attention if you linger. Post a couple of undercovers outside, and a couple of sensors _if_ Banner or Romanoff return."

"Yes sir."

Ross's eyes narrow as he hears the question in his subordinates' voice. "Saunders?"

"How are you going to keep this a secret from the other Avengers? You only want Banner…"

"That is none of your concern soldier," Ross returns briskly. "But if they push me, I will hold the President to his word. They've only been pardoned for past actions; they are fully accountable from here forward. And we can use any force necessary to enforce it."

His mind is still dealing with the bombshell of the Hulk refusing to fight.

That thing is a monster. Ross knows of nothing to match its' brute force.

His endurance is unsurpassed. By anything.

The idea the Hulk has been scared off by Thanos is ludicrous to him; just a ploy. One Ross refuses to fall for. He just needs to find the right incentive to bring the beast out.

He pauses for a second, considering their next actions and devises a quick plan. "Monitor all cameras in and around the city, use facial recognition to find them or any associates. Put unmarked vehicles along the highways leading away from DC. If they decide to return to the Avengers' Facility, try to intercept them long before they get to the others."

Saunders squares his shoulders. "Already took the liberty of putting my men in place, Sir."

Ross smirks. "Good, good. I need them to set up a little demonstration, remind Banner's fans what the monster is capable of."

* * *

Bruce sits behind the car wheel, driving back along the roads he and Natasha travelled yesterday, back to the Avenger's Compound. She sits beside him, her legs curled under her on the seat as her glances alternate between him, the road and the rear-view mirrors, checking for anything suspicious. Even the tiniest coincidence, most minute oddity, will mean defensive driving. While Natasha is probably the more experienced at driving to evade, Bruce understands why she gave him the car keys. She needs him to focus on something other than Ross. Not that open roads are much of a distraction. The scenery hasn't changed in twenty-four hours.

His foot dips lower on the pedal, pumping the accelerator before pressing clutch, his hand grips the gearstick as he quickly changes gear. His grip only tightens instead of releasing it once he's made the manoeuvre, holding on like it's his only tether to controlling the vehicle. Then Natasha's hand covers his casually, before he realises she's even moved. His hand jerks a little and he gives her a quick apologetic look before relaxing under her touch, his fingers flex to let her know he's in control.

"I'm sorry," he sighs bitterly.

"Is there any point in telling you to stop apologising?" Natasha returns easily. It sounds like a genuine enquiry, except he feels like she's teasing. He doubts there'll never be a time when he stops thinking like that, since she always seems to be teasing him; or when he doesn't feel the giddy way he does when she directs any sort of attention at him.

"Probably not," he tells her, his lips curling upward for a moment.

"This isn't your fault," she chides him gently. He feels her eyes trained on him. "Tell me what you're thinking about Bruce," comes the next request.

"I just keep thinking about the volunteers Ross has lined up for whatever he has planned if he gets a sample from me."

"Again, not your fault," Natasha reminds him. "Whether they're offering themselves willingly or not, you are not the one who'll be experimenting on them."

"Is it wrong to think it could be easier if I am?" Bruce muses.

Her eyes bug out at him, surprised by his thoughts. "Do you honestly believe that?"

"No, but I can see how he assumes an army of Hulks would work against Thanos and his remaining children. How easily others could be persuaded of that, too."

"Say, Ross convince everyone who needs convincing, everyone agrees this is the only viable plan, and you agree to personally oversee the procedures. You're forgetting one important part; do you think Ross will let you?"

"And if I'm not involved, and the result is worse than manufacturing more Hulks? Worse than what happened to Emil Blonsky?"

"Then that lies with Ross's vetting of the scientists and the participants," his travelling companion informs him with unwavering certainty. "From what you've told me and personal experience, the experiment enhances natural traits as well as improves physical stature. It'll differ from person to person, depends on who Ross choses."

"Natural traits?" the scientist questions. "Rage?"

"You have to admit you had a lot of unexpressed anger," Natasha explains. "I'm not saying it was unwarranted, or that it's unique to you but it's not all you are Bruce, it's not all the Big Guy is either," she reminds him. "Deep down, he's all fluff."

"Fluff, huh?" Bruce questions with a chuckle though he doesn't really believe her even if she's told him that before.

"Fluff," she declares with a nod. She leans back into her chair, as her hand squeezes his gently before releasing it.

"Tell me something good happened while I was away," Bruce asks after a minute, almost a plea with the thoughts going through his head.

"Good?"

Bruce nods. "You've told me about what happened after I left, about the team splitting, being on the run. It's selfish to ask only I would like to hear about something good happening while I was gone, something small. I'm finding it difficult to believe it was all bad."

Natasha shuffles to sit sideways on the seat to face him. "There was the odd day, but honestly, most of our time was dealing with damage control. We moved out of New York so we could train the new recruits but it wasn't like before Ultron, no one was in the mood to party."

His thumb taps the steering wheel, trying to think of something to prompt her on. He doesn't expect her to open up, yet he feels like they both need a distraction from Thanos and Ross. "What about Barton and the children? Laura was pregnant before," he says glancing at her cautiously.

"Nathaniel's two now," she gives him a short smile. "He barely knows me."

Bruce's heart sinks. It drops further when she shakes her head. "Don't apologise. I made this decision, no one else. I've been on the run for half of his life, while his dad was under house arrest. I could hardly turn up for any of the kid's birthdays," she sighs. "Now I'm free to see them," she blinks away the glistening in her eyes. She sniffs them away. "I'm not going to leave you and I won't take Ross to their door. Not after what he's put them through.

"Barton did the one thing he never wanted to, but he had to expose them to be with them. I don't hold it against him; Laura and kids need him."

"But you lost out," Bruce offers kindly.

"He could've lost them if he hadn't gone home," comes her cryptic response, which he doubts she'd expand upon if he asked.

"You miss them."

"I miss them," she gives him a reassuring nod.

"Maybe when this is over, you will get some time with them," Bruce tries hopefully.

"I was hoping to get in a day or two before going back to the Facility," Natasha replies, making him flush and open his mouth, the apology on the tip of his tongue. "Not exactly what you were expecting when you asked about them."

"I didn't think it through," he admits as he navigates a roundabout. "But you love them, and I know how important they are to you. Barton's kids are sweet and I thought if you had a good story to tell, it'd be about them."

"You're not entirely wrong. I could tell you another story about them, just not from when you were gone," she proposes. He nods, not too eagerly he hopes. "Do you know how terrified I was the first time I looked after Lila and Coop on my own?" Natasha tells him warmly. "Well, it's why I'm good with being an aunty."

Bruce shakes his head, getting lost in the indulgent smile forming on her face.

"After Barton told me about them, he developed this habit of heading straight to the farm instead of dropping me off at SHIELD. He only relaxes when he sees they're safe," she explains. "Coop was six, and Lila was four. I wasn't sure if they liked me at all or if they were that friendly with everyone when their dad came home. Especially since I didn't like myself back then," she breathes out. She swallows loudly.

"We'd been there for three days, Laura was giving the kids a bath, and Barton and I were clearing the dishes from dinner when he says he needs a favour." The little upturn in her voice makes him smile. "It was their anniversary, and he wanted me to watch the kids overnight.

"Well, I dropped the knife I was drying back into the sink and Barton just managed to pull his hands out so it misses him," she smirks. "He didn't say anything, though. Washed it back up and gave it to me to dry again."

"You were scared." Bruce smiles affectionately at her, admiring Barton's ability to calm others even in the weirdest situations.

"Scared doesn't begin to cover it," she shrugs. "But he was keeping me alive on missions, and the kids were pretty low maintenance. No diaper duty. As long as I kept a good supply of paper and crayons, a steady stream of the Disney films in the DVD player, I just had to worry about was feeding them and Laura made the dinner so all I had to do was heat it. Simple, right?"

Bruce nods, knowing there's more to it than that. There always is.

"Barton laid it out, he and Laura were going to have dinner out and they would spend the night away. All I had to do was keep them alive till their parents came home."

"That sounds like a protection detail," Bruce suggests.

" _That_ was still a relatively new concept to me at the time too," she adds dryly. He sputters.

"He was trusting me with two of the three people he loves the most. They keep him going. He had a lot more faith in me than I did. After everything he did for me, all I could say was yes." Her eyes start to fill. "If I had to do it over again, I'd say yes every time."

He knows that in less than twenty-four hours of babysitting, she fell in love with those kids.

"As soon as Laura and Barton drove off, we stood there for what seemed like five minutes staring at each other, before Lila goes 'Dad said we got to take care of you Aunty Nat'. She drags me to the sofa, sits on me as Coop pops in _The Lion King_. I ended up watching it three times that weekend," she says quietly with a shake of her head. "They're mini versions of their parents. Coop, he's quiet, sensible and considerate. He notices the details like Laura and Clint both do, and when he says something, you know he's thought it through. Lila," Natasha sighs, her lips twitch into a quick purse with a twinkle in her eye. "Lila's the wild one. You saw the look she gave Thor for standing on her Lego, there's no fear or filter. She the one who'll ask you straight up what's wrong, while trying to figure out how to do a backflip onto your lap."

"Sounds a lot like someone I know," Bruce smiles, knowing how the little girl is daring and open with her affection. The running jump that greeted Nat and Barton in front of four strangers was evidence enough. Natasha ducks her head at the comparison he's drawn, her skin flushing.

"I'm not saying it went smoothly; they're kids, not perfect. There were tears, tantrums, they argued – they're brother and sister – but there were times when they curled up with me, so confident I could provide the same stability their parents do. It was more nerve-wrecking than any assignment I've ever had; I think I was happier than the kids to see Clint and Laura," she chuckles. Except the sound is short and sad, tugging at Bruce's heart, as if she knows she may never get to experience anything like it again.

He relinquishes the gear stick, and slips from her grasp for a moment to recapture her hand from above, squeezing it reassuringly. She squeezes back and tilts her eyes up at him, quietly assessing him as she asks a personal question of her own.

"Did you and Betty ever talk about kids before the accident?"

He winces. His childhood was a disaster. The mere thought of possibly passing on the hatred his father possesses terrified him into shutting down any conversation about having children. Betty understood, of course, yet he always felt she shouldn't have to. "My childhood didn't endorse the idea."

She bobs her head in agreement. "I love the kids and the time I have with them, but I'm fine with giving them back to their parents at the end of the day. Sometimes it's too intense, and I need space. Even after all this time, I still have these moments when I get overwhelmed by having people to care about, who care about me." She swallows. "Like when Wanda dragged those memories of my graduation ceremony out of my mind. It was still fresh, and we were both raw. All I could focus on was what they did."

Bruce holds his tongue, trying to ignore his own anger at those who stole her childhood away to create the perfect operative. He itches to promise her she was wrong when she referred to herself as a monster back then. She was in pain and torturing herself. "You have other options…"

"What adoption agency is going to hand over a kid to a former assassin who's been on the run for the last two years? I don't want to start a family based upon forged documents and lies."

Okay, she has a point. Bruce sighs.

"If I led a normal life, I would feel differently about it. Do you know what Barton went through to keep his family a secret? They were always second to a mission, when they should come first. Kids don't fit into this life, Bruce. Even if we left this behind, I doubt that would change. We've got too many monsters of our own to worry about the ones under a kid's bed."

"I'm sorry." With everything he went through with his father, he doesn't want to pass those demons onto a child.

"Me too."

They silently pass by the scenery for the next ten minutes, untill Bruce spots a sign for a service station and turns off. Usually, if he had to run unexpectedly, he wouldn't stop unless he was sure he was safe. Yet they're far enough from DC, and neither of them have noticed anyone tailing them. He doesn't feel safe in the slightest, but he needs a break from the scenery which gave him peace yesterday.

Natasha looks at him, questioning his decision without voicing it.

"Fury leave us some cash?" She nods once, her stomach rumbling. "Then he's buying breakfast since he interrupted our attempt earlier," Bruce says pulling into a parking space in front of an empty booth inside the diner-slash-petrol station.


	8. Chapter 8

From the Ashes – chapter eight

" _Certain bodies... become luminous when heated. Their luminosity disappears after some time, but the capacity of becoming luminous afresh through heat is restored to them by the action of a spark, and also by the action of radium." ―_ _Marie Curie_

The car stops with a quiet squeal of the brakes in the empty forecourt in front of the roadside dinner-slash convenience store which has seen better days. Bruce reverses the car into one of spaces, facing outward for an easier getaway if necessary. Through the passenger mirror Natasha eyes the open sign flickering in the window of the virtually deserted service station. Next to it another sign proclaims that bread is baked daily and fresh eggs from on-site, hand-reared chickens – a proclamation backed up by the faint clucking emanating from somewhere in the distance. In the middle of nowhere, fresh ingredients in troubled times will be difficult to come by. Customers even more so, if the few shadows inside are any indication.

Clutching the handle, she cracks her door slightly and she's about to step out only for Bruce to lay a hand carefully on her sleeve. Pausing, she looks over her shoulder at him and he removes it at once. "Bruce?"

His other hand hesitates on his own door. "Even though I think you're crazy for staying with me, I'm glad you haven't left me behind," Bruce tells her softly.

She quips in return, "When the company's this good…I'm honoured you haven't done a runner."

"I suspect Ross would be the least of my problems if I did that to you."

"And don't you forget it, Doc." Her lips twitch at his candour. Then semi-seriously adds, "Ditch me for a second time, and I certainly won't forget it."

His eyes widen and face blanches. _Good_. He swallows heavily with his stare on her solemn expression. "Believe me, that isn't a theory I want to test anytime soon."

She believes him. She believed him the minute he walked into the briefing room at the Facility. She settles back into her seat. "You're stalling," she accuses lightly.

"I need to tell you something and it's not easy," Bruce breathes out. He shakes his head at his faulter. "When I woke up on Sakaar, I thought I lost you." His voice is thick. "I never want to feel like that again. I know it's selfish and you don't feel the same anymore but I'm not going to risk losing you again."

"Bruce…"

She can still feel the imprint of his lips on her forehead where he kissed her. She doesn't think it was a conscious move on his part, just an impulse to comfort himself. His simple touch, unmediated and undemanding without needing any kind of reciprocation from her.

She could have been cruel when he returned and told him it was all an act on her part to control him and Hulk. It would have been easy and believable, she's done it before. Many times. Her career was made on the facade. They could have cut their losses and she could've pretended she didn't ache deep in her chest as she stared at the blank screen longer than she should have after Hulk cut the connection. The lies she should've let fall from her lips would've pushed him away until one or both of their friends intervened and told him how miserable she was while he was gone. Stark would have sold her out in a heartbeat with one look at the aching guilt on Bruce's face.

"I need you Natasha." Simple, honest, no regret. She doesn't doubt him. "Even if Ross wasn't chasing me. You centre me. When I'm him, I'm trapped in this green haze and nothing can reach me except your voice-."

"Bruce," she tries again.

He turns to catch her eye meaningfully, carefully composing the words, "If it's a choice between Ross finding out about you and the Lullaby and arresting me, I'll hand myself in."

Natasha's mind reels with the declaration and though she doesn't think she's moved, she must have because he leans forward a tad to press for confirmation from her. "Promise me you won't intervene if that happens."

It's the last thing she's going to agree to. Her silence gives him his answer. "Natasha," he sighs, chiding her.

"You've agreed to fight, with or without Hulk, Ross should accept that," she counters quickly with force. "Even if you hadn't agreed, he should accept that too. Thanos is just an excuse for him to do what he's always wanted to do to you."

"I know what he wants," he argues back. "And _you_ are the key to that. Do you know what he'll do to both of us if he finds out about what you can do with Hulk?"

He puts far too much importance in her role when it comes to working with the Big Guy. His control was good when they formed the Avengers; she just has a handle on how to neutralize him, which is subject to how amenable he is, with no real influence over his methods.

"I can imagine Bruce, but you can't ask me to stand idly by as he takes you in." There's a flash of heat in her cheeks as she tries to reign in her temper. "You don't have to worry about a Lullaby if Hulk is out of the equation."

He grimaces at that. "I can't believe I'm saying this but wish he wasn't."

"You miss him?"

"Yeah," he admits, slightly dismayed at the realisation. "He seems to work this out a lot quicker than I do."

"I'll say," she breathes out. She calms herself with shallow breaths, syncing her heart rate with them. Hulk does get a quicker handle on field situations. His simplified instincts allow him the freedom to just act rather than over think. Even with his relationships with the other Avengers. He never questioned their relationship and never once worried over complications. With him it bore down to the essentials; he liked her, she liked him. It worked. Aside from that one incident when bullets were rained on them during the Lullaby, none of which pierced her skin thankfully, he never considered her fragile or treated her differently from Cap or Barton – Thor was different because he could take a hit from the Big Guy and walk it off. Being in the field with him was all he needed to know about Natasha. She was on his side. Of course, there were overlaps and blurred lines. Like Bruce, he was gentle and treated her with care and trepidation. Unlike Bruce, he was unapologetic for his impact on her life.

"Do _you_ miss him?" Bruce asks tentatively.

"I've missed you both for so long, seeing you again was overwhelming." The intense sense of relief she felt when she saw him was shattering, breaking her battle-ready composure from dealing with the foot soldiers sent for Wanda and Vision. It was a complicated moment and she didn't have the time or privacy to fully comprehend the foreign emotions. Though one was quite clear. "Mostly I feel guilty."

"Guilty? For what?"

She shrugs. "Thanos snapped his fingers and almost everyone we know lost someone they love and I got you both back," she pauses. "How am I meant to be their friend and try to console them when they know how I feel that you are home?"

It's rhetorical. The Snap left everyone vulnerable and she doubts their closest friends would have appreciated her and Bruce hovering around each other in confusion. She knows Steve wouldn't hold it against her, not at all. But she wouldn't have appreciated the audience or their commentary. That would've been a problem for all of them and probably why Steve essentially told her and Bruce to get a room and sort it out. Though he would never phrase it that way.

Beside her, Bruce turns in his seat and rolls up his sleeve to present his hand and wrist to her. Their eyes meet and he bows his head toward the proffered limb, inching it toward her. Slowly her hand lifts to cover his palm, resting lightly for a second before lifting off. When her fingertips touch his wrist, his head tilts and bends forward slightly.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

His pupils grow, his dark brown eyes almost black as the action takes control of them, surrendering to the intoxicating sensation that over comes them during the intimate act which binds them. She bows a little, maintaining his gaze, bringing them closer. Without hesitation her fingers travel over the contours of his hand, the lines of his palm and along his nimble fingers till they lose contact with a flick. Her face dips toward him, leaning across the console as he meets her. Their foreheads touch and she exhales softly. Noses brush and she can feel his breath on her lips as she adjusts for their lips to meet in a gentle grasp which ends too quickly.

Bruce pulls back to look at her. She knows what he's thinking, it's in his eyes. So warm and telling. The kiss was a pledge. It doesn't fix them, not by a long shot, but it's a promise to try. There's never going to be a right time to have the conversation, yet they both know a service station parking lot isn't the right place.

"We need to get going," Bruce says regretfully, the apology is in his tone.

She nods and swings her door open. "I'll let the others know we'll be delayed so they don't worry," she says pulling her phone from her pocket.

Bruce pushes out of the car and heads straight for the door, too self-conscious and too aware of the air between them and in need of some distraction from her. Then he stops, waiting for her before entering. She hangs back, her phone to her ear as she waits for Steve to answer. His brisk greeting taking her aback. Stark must be getting to him, she decides with a smirk he can't see.

"Nat?"

"We're fine, just delayed," she tells him without preamble. "We're getting breakfast then we'll be back on the road."

"That's probably a good thing," he admits and she can here the wince in his voice. She doesn't have to ask him the readily given explanation. "Ross is here, trying to find out what we know. This'll give us more time to figure out how to get you in the building without him knowing."

"I already have that covered Rogers. You and Stark need to make sure everyone is toeing the party line." She won't outright reveal their plan to discredit Ross by taking Hulk out of play over an open phone line. If Ross is listening, he'll put the Facility on lockdown and catch them on the approach. She doesn't want to give him the opportunity. The Facility is designed to be a stronghold, with multiple spaces to contain Hulk if necessary, like the tank in the Tower.

"You got it," Steve assures her. "How's Banner fairing?"

"Considering drastic action," she mutters.

"He's running."

"I wish he would instead of what his plan B is," Natasha admits. She wishes people would stop stating his penchant for disappearing like it's a bad thing; fighting isn't always the best course of action. She'd rather he run than hand himself over to Ross. She looks at Bruce fidgeting at the door.

"I'll talk to you soon Cap." She clicks off before Steve can say anything else or ask what plan B entails to follow the scientist through the door.

The dinner is quiet except for two men sitting at the far end of the counter when they enter. The waitress acknowledges them with a head bob and a smile as she talks on the phone to someone about the lack of business and deliveries since the _incident._ Bruce looks over his shoulder at her, quirking an eyebrow at the oblique description of half the population disappearing. Should people really adapt that quickly? Are they that desensitised to aliens after the confusing years following the battle of New York?

The woman rambles on, going further by proposing the whole thing is just some an elaborate experiment, a conspiracy covered up by the government. Natasha catches the quiet snicker exchanged by the men at the end of the counter. The waitress pays them no attention as she turns her back on them to wrap up her conversation by dropping an octave. Phone on it's hook, she turns back to Natasha and Bruce standing in front of the counter looking a little dishevelled from their morning and drive. She dismisses them by gesturing at the empty booths behind them. "Eat in or take away, we have plenty of room. Take your pick," she clicks her tongue at the end and waits for their answer.

"Eat in?" Bruce suggests, already taking half a step backward toward the booth in front of their car.

Natasha just nods and slides in the opposite side, plucking the menu from the holder at the end of the table. Bruce settles, positioning himself before her. She feels his gaze on her over the menu as she reads through the breakfast items, trying to find anything remotely healthy while spotting a handwritten note taped to the bottom of the laminated card that all fruit is canned due to lack of availability. Eggs on toast it is, she decides laying the card flat on the table and folding her hands over it. Natasha sees Bruce's eyes land on the note. He lays it flat on the table too.

"Limited choices, huh?" He asks quietly so he doesn't offend the waitress who's feigning disinterest in them from the counter.

He drums his nails on the laminated card, tapping a little rhythm to sooth his anxiety.

Part of her knows they should keep moving, get to the Facility quickly. They're far enough from DC and the team who raided her apartment for them to be an immediate concern. Legalities aside, Ross'll be monitoring the cameras covering all roads out of the capital. She'd do the same, it's a logical step no matter how sloppy they were during their morning chorus. Ross may not have come for them personally but he'll be running things from a far. After his squad's search tanked, he'll be pissed and gunning for them with renewed rigour.

Ross doesn't faze her like he does Bruce. It's clear to her that the former soldier isn't solely responsible with deciding their fate even if Bruce will never get his head around the concept; she gets that and understands he'll do what he needs to to feel safe without letting anyone get hurt. All that matters right now is that he's here, with her, rather than alone.

She's said and done a lot in course of assignments, most of which her Red Room programming forced her to internalize and ignore, setting a precedent for her perception. Even now actions and intent mean more than words to her. Because of this, she values her space, guards it rigorously in fact. Usually a few sharp words are enough to keep people at bay, sometimes a sharper look is required to keep over zealous strangers away. She will never use either to keep Bruce away.

"What'll it be?" Asks the waitress as she saunters over from the counter while pulling her notebook and pencil from the pocket of her apron.

Bruce defers to her first with a pointed look.

"Eggs on whole wheat, and a black coffee," Natasha orders and places her menu back into the holder.

"I'll have the same but with tea instead of coffee," Bruce asks for with a glance up at the waitress as she writes the orders on her pad.

"I'll be right back with your drinks," the waitress drawls and retreats back to the counter.

At the edge of her vision, the waitress pours the coffee from the carafe on the burner with one hand while plucking a tea bag from the box on a shelf. She fills Bruce's with hot water from the large tea urn and lets them cool slightly while collecting a tray with honey and sugar from the under counter where her other customers are situated. With her preference to face the door, Natasha's back is to the men at the counter, Natasha moves the metal napkin holder so she can get an angle on them. Both are particularly ordinary in a non-descript kind of way. They hunch over their breakfast, alternating between munching on bacon and sausage and slurping their drinks. Their attention doesn't wander far from their plates. Not even to casually glance in their direction. Her eye twitches just enough for Bruce to catch it. He's noticed it too.

She might be on edge already; constant paranoia is a side effect of her life. Nothing is ordinary. No reaction, no casual glance, is extraordinary. Bruce checks the tree line surrounding the diner. A slightest, discernible shrug of one shoulder is her answer. Nothing. Could be a coincidence but she doubts it.

One pushes his plate away and swallows he rest of his coffee while the other wipes his mouth and hands with a paper napkin. They exchange a quick nod toward the door and their stalls scrape loudly across the tile floor as they offer the waitress a cheery nod. "Same time tomorrow Tracy."

The door dings as it opens and shuts for them. Natasha and Bruce watch them drive off in their pick-up truck. Appetite gone, they wait in the booth till the truck has pulled out onto the highway, the only thing they can see is the tail lights in the distance.

Before they can get up to make some excuse about leaving the waitress puts their drinks in front of them. In the blink of an eye, she turns to the counter to grab their food. Natasha spies a vending machine in the corner with bottles of water. She looks up at the waitress and asks sweetly, "Can we grab some bottles of water for the road?"

Tracy looks over her shoulder with a frown but complies with the request. Natasha's attention is caught by Bruce as he swipes the salt shaker from the table. He understands her thinking. A saline solution will hopefully induce vomiting before any drugs take effect. While Tracy's back is turned, Natasha leans over the booth partition to grab the salt from the other table. She's back in her seat with it concealed in her sleeve before their server notices.

Tracy returns to place the bottles on the table. "I'll add it to the tab."

"Actually, we need to get back on the road," Bruce hastily informs her. Natasha pulls two ten-dollar bills from her pocket and tosses on the table for the waitresses' troubles.

As he stands, Bruce opens one bottle and sips from it. Natasha is already halfway to the door when he doubles over, the bottle falling to the floor as his hands grip the table in an effort to stabilise himself. She's at his side in two strides, her hand sliding under his arm to help him.

"Nat…" he gasps raising his red face to hers, his eyes flickering green.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author Note – thank you all for sticking with me as well as adding this story to your favourite and follow lists. Also, thank you to those who left reviews on the last chapter. I've also posted a one-shot,** _ **Snow.**_ **I would love to know what you all think of it.**

 **Special thanks to my beta Black Victor Cachat for beta-reading.**

From the Ashes – chapter nine

' _She leaned forward and caught at his hand, pressing it between her own. The touch was like white fire through his veins. He could not feel her skin only the cloth of her gloves, and yet it did not matter. You kindled me, heap of ashes that I am, into fire. He had wondered once why love was always phrased in terms of burning. The conflagration in his own veins, now, gave the answer.' - Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess_

The reaction is instant. The water bottle drops from his fingers and bounces off the table before landing on the diner floor, its contents cascading out. The cap scatters somewhere toward the counter.

His body lurches. His torso coils in on itself before a pulse forces him to bend outward, his back straining to stretch that far. His heartbeat pounds in his ears as he barely manages to lift his head to meet Natasha's concerned gaze.

Then she's moving from his blurred vision, he can only make out the colours of her clothes and hair as she slides from the booth, swiping something from the table as she does. He doesn't register her hands on him but he's pulled out of the booth. The room spins as he's half dragged, half carried to the door by a woman who is significantly smaller than he is.

His panting barely conceals the growls threatening to escape. He fights it as hard as he can, except he's too far gone and he knows it. He's too far gone even before the heat bursts from the pit of his stomach, travelling through his heart, up his neck and exploding in his head. Natasha does her best to put as much distance between them and the waitress and cook he senses cowering behind the counter. They don't have the time for Natasha to try to calm him.

His mind is lost in a fog. The transformation is a stream of sensations more difficult to track than his thoughts. Blood is rushing through him; his heartbeat is out of control. His body starts to grow, his clothes stretch and rip where they can't contain his spreading mass. He can barely feel the floor let alone count the steps to the diner door. He's propelled through it into the open air.

Bruce closes his eyes at the onslaught of the sunlight blaring down at him. Every sensation is a struggle as he changes. He feels the itch flowing through his veins, he can't fight it and he has no choice but to let it consume him.

It takes over with his permission.

Then he doesn't know where he stops and Hulk begins. He blinks, his blurring vision catches a glimpse of green as he gives over control and unleashes the roar he's been holding back.

* * *

Natasha drags him toward the exit. She doesn't hesitate even with his convulsing, morphing body. Her strength propels them forward, yet she doubts they'll manage to get out of here before the Big Guy graces them with his presence. In moments, he won't fit in the car either.

She practically shoves him through the door. The frame is too small to manoeuvre his growing form causing her to give up supporting him for a second. The moment her hands come away from his body, he stumbles and collapses to the ground. With a cursory glance at the tree line and for any vehicles racing towards them, she drops into a crouch beside him to drag him the last few meters toward their car. Except he doesn't have the coordination or control to lift himself to his feet, yet he manages to start crawling on the paving slabs. Or it could just be an illusion as he grows. He finally reaches the cover of their car and twists to rest his back against it.

The squeal of tires hits her ears and she joins Bruce behind their car to get some shelter before the pick-up truck that just left, returns. Checking the gun at her waist, she looks down at his still convulsing body and wishes they had developed a way of using the Lullaby mid-transformation. She's not exactly in the frame of mind to field test anything today- she doubts she'd stand a chance against a drug-induced transformation - but it's something to consider for the future.

Movement behind her distracts her from Bruce's flailing as Tracy scrambles to lock the door, protecting herself from either them or the men who put her up to trapping them. Probably both.

"Get behind the counter and keep down!" Natasha yells. She's only bothering because she's certain the woman is a civilian and was coerced into this. From the way she's moving now, it's clear she's reacting without training to deal with this situation. The sound of fabric ripping brings her back to Bruce, to see his clothes straining with his growth as he hunches close to the ground in front of their car.

"Bruce," she says grasping his jaw and forcing him to look at her in a last-ditch effort to bring him back to her. His eyes are all over the place, yet brown for the moment. He's disorientated and only keeping his head up because she's supporting his neck. She doesn't know what effect the drugs will have on Hulk when he emerges.

Natasha does a quick visual check of Bruce; under her touch his heartbeat is like it's jumping out from his skin, bouncing off the pads of her fingers. He's almost gone, only a small patch of pink flesh remains above his collar. The veins on his neck worry her, they don't normally bulge this much during a transformation. But they're a deep blue still, and she puts it down to whatever he was drugged with. If she were to guess, she would assume his drink was spiked with a strong dose of adrenaline. Which will probably work its way out of his system by the time she's able to get him to Stark to run tests, making it impossible to prove.

"Tasha, no," he groans, his voice low and pained as his face twists into Hulk then morphs back, as they both try to fight it. Her hand cups his cheek.

"I don't think you have much of a choice here, Big Guy," she soothes him. She hates seeing the searing pain flutter across their faces as they struggle.

"No Hulk," Hulk struggles again with ragged breathing, shaking her hand off as if her touch hurt him. "Tasha…" he begs.

"I know Big Guy," she whispers as the last shreds of Bruce's shirt fall away to reveal green flesh and muscle. Their car shifts as his growing back muscles press against the side of it and moves a couple of feet before he jerks up and supports himself. She gives him a moment to take in their location, before reaching out to him again, except he shies away from her. Her heart drops.

"Work with me here, and we're gone," she pleads, sparing a glance through both windshields as a second set of tires squeal to a halt at the only road in and out of the service station. Then a third.

Fully formed, Hulk's instincts kick in as he springs up and spins towards the threat, suddenly on the defensive. She's fairly confident she can keep him from starting something but it won't be easy to persuade him from finishing whatever they do. She's just glad he's snapped out of his passive state, she can work with him like this. She rises slightly from her crouch to view those cornering them. Four men in tactical gear, tucked behind the doors of their vehicles with guns levelled at them. She suspects, even at the last minute, Ross's squad will have managed to procure and stash a sonic canon amongst their cache of weapons. The other guns are, though standard issue, top of the line.

"Step away from the building!" comes the clipped order from the loudspeaker atop of the middle vehicle. It's not Ross's voice and Natasha realises he won't reveal himself by linking himself in person. "We advise any civilians to leave the building by the rear exit and clear the area," the voice continues.

"Doctor Banner, Agent Romanoff, under a special amendment to the Accords, in an instance of Doctor Banner transforming without due cause, we have orders to return you to the Facility!"

Natasha's eyes narrow. That wasn't in the version of the Accords she read or signed. She almost sure it's a bluff but Ross could've pulled some strings late last night to have it added. She's sure Fury would've said something if he had.

Hulk straightens his back, flexing his muscles as half a dare, half a threat. If they were training with the guys, she might smile. Unfortunately, they're not and there's no way the other Avengers will be able to reach them in time. But she's confident they can neutralise this situation without shedding blood. She checks that Hulk is keeping his cool as he towers over her. His heavy breaths cause his muscles to undulate. His cold stare pierces their opponents. She can see the tiniest shake of at least two of their weapons. Natasha is a touch offended it's not only because of her. The man on the far right cocks his head slightly, and she sees the sunlight bounce off his earpiece. Taking orders. She doesn't really want to stick around to find out what they are, and she's about to turn to her huge backup when she feels the ground shake under her feet.

She steadies her feet as she hears the low rumbling of a heavy-duty vehicle approaching, slower than the others. They part as the armoured vehicle turns the corner into sight, and the large gun on top trained on the diner. Natasha spots the tiny lens of the bodycam on the soldiers' lapel. Instinctively she knows how this will play out. Ross is starting to piss her off, and she hopes he has a good view from cowering behind a camera.

"We need to go," she whispers at Hulk. He snarls at their adversaries but she senses that was a response for her.

There's no return warning or threat from the soldiers on the ground, but the large gun barrel adjusts to aim above her head. She and Hulk work in tandem as the mechanisms whir. She dives towards him as his large arm winds around her waist and pulls her into his body as he jumps away from the diner. His hand splays her stomach, holding her to him as his chest curls over her back to protect her as the charge travels through the front window of the diner.

* * *

"You have a go," Ross says into the microphone linking him to the Saunders, running the mission on the ground.

He stares at the screen with grim satisfaction as the diner explodes in flames. He has no real concern that the civilians inside are in any imminent danger, despite the collapsing building. They were given fair warning. They'll be free of the structure soon enough. Though collateral damage is fair at times like this. For the greater good after all.

He's already violated several oaths and laws to facilitate this little demonstration, least of which included hacking traffic cams to run facial recognition software to track the two Avengers as they left the capitol. His reputation is shot to hell as it is; what's one more thing to add to the growing list?

He's been humiliated, discounted, and ridiculed by those who should respect and listen to him. All to the benefit of Banner, the bane of his existence. Ross didn't like him when he was just a scientist in a white coat who worked side by side with his daughter; the man cowered behind his equipment with a limp backbone. Then he had the audacity to woo Betty. The former General can barely fathom how the placid thinker contained the monster within him for so long. A monster hailed a hero without the years of training and dedication that men like Ross, like Saunders, and the rest of the men in his unit, who hadn't received one iota of the recognition Banner, or the Hulk received.

But the green monster is in all his glory on the screen. Snarling over his shoulder while he shields Agent Romanoff from the explosion and the men on the ground. Hulk pays them no heed; his focus is fixed in the middle of the screen. If Ross didn't know any better, he would swear the Hulk was staring straight at him. The dead, unflinching stare cuts through him like he's there in the field, and Ross subconsciously shifts in his seat when the beast bares his teeth.

Then a cluster of blonde hair peeks out from under the hulking green. Instantly, the Hulk's attention shifts to the agent he's shielding, and it may be Ross' imagination, but the monster seems to soften at the lightest touch of her hand on his forearm despite the shot of adrenaline Ross's men smuggled into the bespectacled scientists' food. They should've used a higher concentration of the drug because Ross needs a fiercer reaction than this. He expected the powerful creature to come out swinging, ripping everything and everyone apart.

Ross keenly observes the interaction as the renegade Avenger speaks to the great oaf, with patience he's never witnessed in either of them. There's audio, yet but he can't hear what she's saying from this, especially not over the sound of the car alarm blaring in front of the diner. He inches closer to the edge of his seat as the Hulk looks back and forth between the diner, his men observing them – by now readying another direct assault on the two Avengers – and Romanoff. From this angle, he looks defiant, except then she says something else and directs him toward the diner. He's never been able to read lips so he has no choice but to watch their conversation, for now, he'll be able to clear up the audio during playback later.

"Sir?" Saunders questions across the comms link.

"Whatever force necessary Colonel," Ross reminds him. "People need to be aware of the power he harnesses. A power we can replicate to create an army against the purple bastard who wiped out half the planet."

"Yes Sir," Saunders replies, ready to make the final move. "On your order, Sir."

Most of their weapons are useless against the bullet-proof Hulk but with they'll have the desired effect. "You have a go Colonel."

* * *

The Big Guy's arms encircle her, holding her to him. She can feel the rage building in him, mirroring her own, but she can't let her temper take over when she needs to deal with his. In one stride they're away from the building, yet the gun still discharges.

The glass shatters as the round explodes inside of the diner. Flames start to rise out of the kitchen area. Through the crackle, she can hear Tracy's screaming. Natasha glances around Hulk to see the men have them covered again. Hulk is her only shield,

He would choose now to have an issue with leaving her exposed, she thinks testily, as Hulk refuses to leave her to rescue the waitress from the burning building. Her head is pounding, and her ears ring from the explosion. The blaring alarm isn't helping. Their car is a shell, shattered glass from the windscreens clutters the ground amongst the glass from the diner. The only reason it is even that intact is that Tony buys quality vehicles. She will still reprimand him for not making sure all his cars are more bulletproof. Her feet still hover above it from where Hulk holds her to him.

"You've got to get the people in building out of there," she insists and wriggles in his hold to get him to release her. Somewhere above all the noise, she can hear Tracy screaming.

"Tasha," is the gruff rebuke, as he glances between the dinner and the men zeroing in on their position. None of them has broken formation, none daring enough to test the Hulk's wrath with a solo mission. At least they're not that stupid, or their survival instinct works better than their strategies. Hulk glances back at her. Not for permission, a promise.

He's more than a mindless beast Ross wants to control. He gets a little carried away but his results speak for themselves; he gets the job done. She's always been a little envious of his ability to create chaos without the same discipline she's been trained with. Unfortunately, this isn't the time or the place to demonstrate either.

"Get them out, and we're gone," she promises.

Still, he looks uncertain. She can feel the tension in his body, he's ready to pounce and smash their assailants. "I know how satisfying it would be to tear them apart, and I wish we could Big Guy, but that's what they want!" she tells him.

Hulk frowns at her.

"There are people who need our help," Natasha prompts him, and he finally registers Tracy's screams. He cocks an eyebrow at her. He has a point, she concedes it with a nod. That woman and the others in the diner screwed them over, even if they were coerced. Even if they knew who they were screwing over, the details, and the consequences, or not. "We can't give Ross the satisfaction of leaving them in there. One or both of us is going in there. If you don't, I will."

When he doesn't release her straight away. She wriggles from his grasp, and sets herself on the ground, before taking a step toward the shattered opening, where the door frames barely hang onto their hinges. She barely gets a meter from him when the bullets start peppering near her. She's dragged back to the moderate cover of Hulk's body as he places her between himself and the shell of their car. She crouches and draws her own gun, ready to return fire while using the car as cover. She takes out the tires with Stark's newest, anti-armour rounds first before turning her aim on the men; she manages to fire off two rounds at the two nearest to her, her bullets pierce their body armour at the shoulders to incapacitate them, before the others start focusing their shots to take her out, rather than to keep her pinned down.

She spins and leans against the rear bumper to look up at her teammate. She slips the other gun from her waist and slides her spare magazines up the sleeves of her jacket and secure them with the tags on the lining. Gripping the guns, her thumb nudges the safety off. "They still need us," she reminds him with a nod at the diner. "I can take care of our friends, they have reason to fear me too Big Guy. Have you ever doubted me before?" she adds cockily with a teasing tilt of her head, daring him to confirm it when he looks like he'll refuse again. He smirks at her confidence and disappears into the smoking building.

After a breath, she whirls back to the relentless squad hammering her with ammo. Guns in hand, she returns fire, making sure not to leave any fatal injuries. After everything, she's still bound by her ledger and the legionnaire. Her targets fall back, but they're tougher than she expected, as some switch their guns to their uninjured arm to shoot one-handed. The lack of challenge this poses at least suggests some training with this set of men.

One bullet whizzes past her ear. She's quickly running out of bullets. A quick flick of her wrist dislodges one of the magazines in her sleeve. In one smooth movement, she drops one gun and grips the moving magazine while releasing the empty one from the guns' she's holding before sliding the new one in. Within seconds she recommences her return fire. The back of the armoured vehicle opens, and four more troops clamour out. Two men split away from the group to take up position next to their fallen comrades. The other two begin an advance around the perimeter toward her. She takes down the one on the far left with a bullet through the knee. The one on the right has too much cover from foliage and their vehicles. She can't get a good look at his weapon to identify it.

He moves swiftly till he gets a solid cover to rest it on to support it while firing. Natasha sighs at the sonic cannon and moves—the car won't offer her any cover from that. In seconds, it's locked and aimed at her. She dives backwards, the blast aiding her body's trajectory once it triggers. The car absorbs most of it, yet the kickback disturbs the debris from the diner scattered on the ground, and it follows Natasha until she hits the side of the diner, her head snapping back on the now empty window frame.

"Ugh," Natasha winces, her eyes screwing shut briefly with the sharp pain. Her ears start ringing from the impact and the pulse blast. She covers her face with her arm, but it doesn't stop some of the larger debris scraping the side of her head as it lands.

The pulses stop, it was only to draw someone out anyway. A large shadow falls across her and from the ground shaking beneath her, it can only be one person. She lowers her arm and squints up at the shadow looming over her, standing now between her and the guns. "Hey, Big Guy," she drawls. A few metres away, Tracy and the cook bolt for the treeline and the road beyond it.

She blinks as one large finger slowly brushes a clump of hair away from her face. Drawing it back, Hulk curiously examines her congealing blood on his finger, she can feel the rage building in him, his mouth twisting into a snarl. She wraps her hand around his pinky gently to soothe him. He eases just enough to look at her face.

"You don't need to do this, we can just go. Anywhere you want, as far as you want, just you and me."

"Hulk and Tasha?" Hulk questions slowly, intrigued by the idea.

"You and me," Natasha confirms.

"And Banner?" She nods, not sure why he felt the need to question that part. She'll ask him when they're in the clear.

Then the men start firing again. Natasha sighs as their bullets bounce off of Hulks' back. "Ross is using them as cannon fodder," she explains as she jumps to her feet. "He wants us to take them out so he can call you a killer. Don't give him the satisfaction." She angles herself into his body, her hands rising to hold onto him. "Get us out of here," she asks.

He doesn't move to comply at all. She looks up at his face and sees his intent. "I promised him I wouldn't let Ross find out about the Lullaby, Big Guy, don't turn that into a lie."

He spares a glare at the men behind them and their seemingly never-ending supply of ammo. "They follow."

"I took out their tires," Natasha points out, bringing him back to her. "They can't follow us, but whatever friends they have out there on the road could." He doesn't like that idea. "You're not known for stealth Big Guy, it's inevitable." She isn't being unkind, it's the truth.

"You want Banner," he says with a sigh.

"I want you both," she counters desperately. "Right now, you can get us out of here, and then we can talk this through." He's reluctant and she's forced to threaten him again. "Or I'll give the Lullaby a shot and see what Ross does with that information once he takes me and Banner in."

He doesn't react, pausing as if to challenge her to do just that. She's not afraid of him or Ross, consequences be damned. The only thing she cares about is not destroying the tentative steps they taken so far. Bruce might trust her but she's not entirely convinced Hulk does since returning to the planet despite being able to perform a successful Lullaby in Wakanda. With that in mind, Natasha lifts her hand, keeping eye contact with her huge teammate and utters the words, "Sun's getting really low."

He bats her hand down with a light flick of his hand. "Tasha safer without Hulk or Banner."

"Not if you leave me here," she argues, worried he will do just that. He has form. "Ross is just looking for a reason to lock me up."

They don't have time for this. During their conversation, the squad has been moving in, slowly so not to spook their huge prey. Hulk glances at them over his shoulder again and smirks. They pause like they're in a game of musical statues. Natasha almost laughs. Then the armoured vehicle sets two feet on the ground and starts rearing up to reveal another mechanism. Cables wrapped around what looks like a winch. The black strands light up blue, sizzling like her suit does when it charges her batons – no God or suit will protect Stark if he had anything to do with this design, she decides as she realises it's an electrified net or harness.

Whatever it is, it spurs Hulk into action, and she's swept up in his arms as he leaps over the diner. He lands by the chicken coop, yet doesn't waste time before leaping again into the tree line. He doesn't jump again. This time he runs with the protection of the trees, his natural camouflage blending in with the leaves. One large hand protectively cradles her head as Natasha wraps herself around him, her face tucks just below the crook of his neck. She's careful not to hinder his movements, with her legs and arms around his torso as he covers ground at a remarkable speed. She's been on this ride before and hopes it's not as bumpy as the last time.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author Note – I won't delay with a long message but thank you for continuing to read. I loved all of your comments on the last chapter.**

 **Special thanks to my wonderful beta, Black' Victor Cachat.**

From the Ashes – chapter ten

" _It was one thing to have your own kind of hope, an ember you could nurture inside, something to inspire you when things got dark. If it died, it was on you; no one else even had to know about it, and you were free to reignite it, or to give up and walk away. But when you were carrying it with another person, for another person, it was a dangerous dream. Treacherous as the sea, yet fragile as a bubble." ―_ _Sarah Ockler, The Summer of Chasing Mermaids_

"I don't care if she shot out your tires, or he went over the forest, find them! Boots on the ground! Drones! Hell, hack a satellite to track them! How can you lose that monster? He'll leave a trail!" Ross shouts into his phone. With a growl, he hurls the device at the window only for it hit the glass without making so much as a dent. It drops to the plush carpet still intact, much to Ross's annoyance. The whole place was designed against destroying it. Ross snarls, he knew Stark made a Hulk proof space. He just didn't expect it to extend to the rest of the Facility, leaving him nowhere to vent his anger.

He stomps over to the item to retrieve it. There's not even a scratch. Sighing he slips it into his pocket before glancing around the frosted glass-walled office to see if his outburst drew anyone's attention. No shadows lurking. He frowns; though the team at the Facility have grown used to his temper, his assistant should be sulking nearby.

The blonde agent had managed to curb the Hulk's natural fight instincts and convinced him to flee. It wasn't the blood bath Ross had been hoping for. Except it proved one thing: Hulk could still be drawn out with the aid of chemicals despite his reluctance. Ross had expected the shot of adrenaline to linger in the Hulk's system longer despite how the massive amount of energy required to transform probably burned it out of his system. They'll need a higher concentration next time.

There's a knock on his door. From the shadow cast on the door, it can only be one person, so Ross doesn't bother with acknowledging his assistant as he crosses the room and swings the door open for him to enter.

"We need to re-examine the footage, there's got to be something we can use."

Ross moves back towards his desk and the monitor. His assistant follows him and watches over his shoulder as he hits play on the recording. They watch it in real time. Calmer now, Ross is able to focus on the interaction between the great beast and the woman, especially the heated exchange before Hulk sweeps her up and leaps over the building. Hulk was about to charge the squad, Ross is certain as he watches. Yet there's no fear in Romanoff as she gets in his space and places herself between him and the squad. She's confident he won't hurt her. Catching a movement he hadn't noticed before, Ross taps the timeline, slowing down the replay by half.

The blonde looks determined as she raises her hand only for the Hulk to push it down a moment later. Ross plays that section again, in real time this time as he tries to read their lips, desperately trying to make out their words. Finally, he hits pause on the Hulk's hand coming down over hers.

Half turning to his assistant. "I need you to pull all of the Avenger's mission reports, anything on who worked closest with the Hulk, how they managed to keep hold of him at the end of a mission."

888888

Tony looks at the footage playing across the screen, rewinding it again once his teammates, his friends, bounce over the flaming one-storey building. He just manages to make out a shock of blonde hair buried in the crook of Hulks' shoulder. He never imagined this when he hacked Ross's feed. They're alive and free for now, he reminds himself.

Rogers hovers over his shoulder, feeling as helpless as he does. They gave Bruce their word to stay out of Ross's way. And they hate it. If they break it, risk themselves to save him, they risk losing him, and they've lost so many already.

"We can't let this continue," Rogers tells him, laying a hand on his shoulder to bring Tony's focus to him.

"We need a distraction," Tony grouses. Ross has been focused on the Bruce for so long he doubts a distraction will work. The Avengers alone aren't enough. "Give Red some time to work with the Big Guy, bring them home."

"Doesn't seem like a guy who's distracted easily," the blonde man tells him in a low voice. "He didn't let up on us when we were on the run. There's more at stake now."

"If we expose him, he'll find a way to justify it and worm his way out. We've got to prove him wrong. All the evidence from the last time he tried this, disappeared," Tony muses. Then a thought strikes him.

"You got a plan?" Rogers asks, seeing Tony's mind working.

"A thought but we'll have to bring in the big guns for this to work."

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While Natasha can't track how long they're running for, her hands are starting to ache from where they're clasped around Hulk's thick neck. She doesn't know where they are, but she can tell they're a good distance from the totalled service station when he finally stops running. She'll never question his stamina after maintaining that speed for so long. Panting from exertion, he stops in a clearing and sets her down carefully to examine the area. His hand hovers as her feet get used to being on solid ground once again. They could keep going, except her limbs throb from being wrapped around him for so long even though it was a fairly smooth ride. She should also touch base with him; she's not sure what he retains of their situation since he took over from Bruce.

Stretching her limbs, Natasha surveys the area. 'The clearing' turns out to be a yard in front of a boarded-up house. A few hundred feet away stands a barn with a double-doors hanging off the hinges. She takes in the overgrown trees and metre-high grass in the neighbouring field and what appears to be an old animal pen. The tall foliage will afford them some cover, yet she doesn't want to risk an aerial pursuit spotting or spooking the Big Guy. They need to get inside. Though she doubts it'll do them any good if Ross uses heat-seeking detectors. Her body temperature alone will set them off without the heat radiating from Hulk.

"Nice place you've found. We won't stay for long," Natasha tells him. "They'll be on top of us if we do."

"Ross," he replies without missing a beat.

"Yep," she nods, glancing at him to check how he reacts to the knowledge but he seems unfazed by his adversary. "Thankfully it's abandoned." She doesn't want another scene like the one at the diner. "I say we start with the outbuilding, less effort," she says, pointing at the rotten wooden doors which look like they'll drop if they get too close. The house is boarded up tight anyways, and he won't have to navigate the smaller doorframe. His responding look tells her exactly what he thinks of her reasoning. "Less effort for me, you'd have no problem with either," she relents under his silent mocking.

Hulk snickers and uses his longer stride to reach the opening first. With one hand he pushes one door out of the way and peers into the large shed. Deeming it clear, he steps aside for Natasha to lead the way into the outhouse.

"And they say chivalry is dead," the spy intones as she gives him a flirty look. He straightens his back slightly, his mouth turning up in his approximation of a smile.

The large building is as run down as the rest of the property. It reminds her of Barton's large shed, only the floor is hay-free and there's a large wooden workbench against the back wall underneath a small, paint covered window. Light filters through some of the gaps but the room is mostly dark. With Hulk behind her, no doubt doing his own visual check, she approaches the bench, upon which lies an abandoned rusty crowbar and hammer.

Sweeping across the open space she finds nothing else in the other corners, nothing lurking or suspicious about the entire property. The birds chirp in the trees outside and, try as she might, can't discern any sounds out of the ordinary, not even a car engine.

Anything she can't sense she knows Hulk would.

"Nothing," he grumbles as if reading her thoughts.

"Yeah, we should still check the house – just in case," Natasha agrees. He nods yet doesn't move.

"Tasha bring Banner back?" He steps in front of the door as he asks it. There's no clue in his tone for her to decipher his reason for asking yet she doesn't think it's a request.

She breathes out quietly, hoping to have more time with the Big Guy. She thought he felt the same after their exchange at the diner.

He's still keyed up from his _jog_ through the trees; he keeps pacing in a tight circle, flexing his hands as he tries to stay calm. She's seen him do it countless times in the field; winding down and venting the excess energy before she attempts the Lullaby. To anyone else, her observation would look like she was waiting for the right time to bring Bruce back when in fact she was waiting for Hulk to give her the signal that he was ready to transform. Like an automated response to her presence, something she suspects he's fighting right now. Not that she'd attempt a Lullaby anyway, there's a squad scouring the countryside for them and they might need him to get away quickly.

Besides, she's missed his company.

"Not yet, I'd like to talk first, if that's okay with you."

"Hmm," he grumbles.

"Are you avoiding me?" she instantly hates how needy she sounds. "You don't call, you don't write, it's almost like you don't want to be here," she tacks on to playfully, hoping he won't admit she is right. "I know this wasn't your choice, but I'm glad you're okay Big Guy. You had me and Bruce worried."

He huffs and alters his pacing to approach the door to check for their pursuers. It's a blessing as she manages to get an uninterrupted, good look at him for the first time since they were reunited. Her eyes travel across the expanse of his back, the unmarred rippling muscles of his shoulders narrowing to a sculptured waist. She bypasses the stretched and torn trousers; one day Bruce will have a pair of pants he won't have to worry about sacrificing. Normally his lower limbs don't hold her attention, unless they're moving and she needs to dodge them in the field, except the deep puncture wounds on his ankle make her pause. She's never seen him with an injury, much less a scar like those ones.

They look recent and like they're healing. They represent so much more and Natasha doesn't like it.

"What happened to your leg Big Guy?" she asks drawing his attention to the wound. His brow creases into a frown as he considers it before straightening and deliberately avoiding her gaze.

"Big Wolf," is all he offers.

Natasha moves slowly around his back, her eyes searching for anything else. Her whole body pauses as soon as she sees the mottled dark purple bruise on the curve of his back and abdomen, nestled just under his ribs. She winces as she thinks about the kind of power needed to cause such an injury. Her hand rises unbidden and her fingers flutter over his skin. She does a quick measure against her fist and finds her hand tiny in comparison. "And this?"

He twists to follow her gaze, fleetingly meeting her eyes before averting his and spitting his answer, "Thanos."

She raises an eyebrow but isn't surprised. It's just another thing she adds to her growing list against the mad Titan. Her heart twists as her Green hero's face steels over after a momentary lapse. She doesn't call him on it, his reaction is enough to deter her from making him more conscious of it than he is. Although it gives her an idea of what else might be going through his head. He's healing; something he's never had to deal with before. He's gone against opponents who could match him, but they never did any real damage, and he always prevailed. Two fights, days apart just before he was returned to Earth -according to the timeline Bruce and Thor gave them—it's not much time to recuperate. Especially when no one, the Hulk included, knows how to help him or that he was injured in the first place. While she has not seen underneath Bruce's clothes, she suspects that as absurd as it is, he is unaware as well. Or at least she has not seen him limping with that leg, or acting as if his chest is a mass of tender skin. She only knows of his lasting sense of fear when he landed in New York the other day.

"At least you lived to tell the tale, Big Guy. Besides, we're going to find him," Natasha tells him, knowing it's more of a comfort to herself than him. She finishes her circle around him to drop into step on his other side. She is in no way content with discovering his injuries, except it offers an explanation for his uncharacteristic behaviour. "I was starting to worry you were gone for good."

He at least has the manners to look ashamed for his absence, even if he offers no explanation for it. She sighs. "I've missed you," she adds softly.

"Hulk miss Tasha," he concurs.

"You did?" It slips out with less surprise and more feeling than she wanted it to.

"Hulk and Tasha," he simply replies only it doesn't sound like a question this time. He is open to it as far as she can tell. Open to her.

Only that gives her more questions. Or at least spurs one which has been burning since he flew off into the sunset without her.

"Then why did you leave me behind after Sokovia?"

She doesn't let herself hide in her own thoughts and doubts. She lets him see them clear on her face as he studies her, looking as forlorn as she feels. His gaze shifts to her forehead and after a second he reaches out a tentative finger to brush her blood-dyed hair away from the gash on her head that she'd forgotten about. He concentrates on it for a second before seemingly deciding the gash is harmless. The rest of his hand moves to cup her cheek gently. Her feet are rooted to the floor but she leans into his hand.

He's never touched her before.

Sure, he's let her touch him, but he's never been bold enough initiate contact. Not like this; his reluctance born out of Bruce's fear of hurting her, she's certain. If they were in the field or training and she needed a boost, or a lift, or to get some real air in her jumps, he was her guy.

She had her choice of Rogers or Thor, yet and she relished Hulks' reaction when she first chose him, when he first realised, she wasn't afraid of him. That rush in her chest gave way to flirty smile to cover her deep-rooted satisfaction as deer-in-headlights look plastered across his face when she caught him off guard. This rush is different. This one leaves her slightly breathless.

"Tasha," her name on his lips sends a flood of satisfaction through her. Bruce prefers shortening her name to 'Nat' while the Hulk uses 'Tasha', she doesn't have a preference herself, they both sound like a claim – the same way she claims them with 'Doc' and 'Big Guy'.

"Welcome home, Big Guy," she whispers like she told Bruce in the middle of that field in Wakanda over a week ago. He reacts instantly, his back straightening and the slight puffing out of his chest, ready to heed to her but his broken expression causes her chest to clench.

"Earth not Hulk home," Hulk tells her solemnly, his hand slipping from her cheek. "Earth hate Hulk."

"Does that mean you're going to leave again?"

He holds her gaze for a beat before hanging his head.

"Earth hate Hulk," he says slumping down on the floor wearily.

"Not all of us," Natasha retorts, suddenly relieved Thor has already left the planet effectively stranding Hulk here. "Not me." She barely waits for that to settle before she points out, "You're not part of the problem Big Guy. They don't understand that you are part of the solution. Not even Bruce understands that yet."

"You want Banner. Always trying to change Hulk to Banner." Hulk pauses. "Hulk trying to be better for Tasha."

At first, Natasha thinks he's talking about that moment in the playground on Sokovia, except then she realises he's talking about the Lullaby in general, and how she continually approaches him when the fight is finished to bring Bruce back. She doesn't give him the same freedom as Bruce, she is responsible for neutralising him when the world has no use for him. And _he_ wanted to have more self-control for _her._

"I want you both," Natasha counters. "Just remember, I'm the one who pushed him into a pit to get him to transform. I'm fine with the package deal, you two are the ones who have the issues with it."

He grumbles at that and scuffs the floor with his foot, finding it hard to accept her words. Natasha knows he probably has some justifications. They probably have some merit; neither he nor Bruce has complete control, and that has some theoretical dangers. But her life is already full of danger and risks. _He is not the destructive being people knew from Harlem. She doesn't know how to convince the world, let alone him, otherwise. She knows what it's like to be called a monster so much you actually believe it._

Ross still holds a grudge for the accident that had created Hulk, and a lot of people still hold onto the belief he intentionally levelled Johannesburg, despite Wanda's public admission of guilt. If he'd been around during their little civil war, his association with the Avengers in that current political climate would have been more damaging to Bruce, rather than the other way around.

"My point is you're not the only one who has a history they're running from," she reiterates. "We can't shut the world out no matter how much we want to save it from ourselves." He shrugs, not completely agreeing with her. "I know what it's like to have nothing," Natasha sighs. "I don't want you to go back to that. I'm not going to let you."

"Tasha…" he exhales.

"I'm not the only one either," she points out. "We have a family out there ready to fight for us. It took me a while to figure out how to accept that too," she softens at his endearing head tilt. "You'll just have to catch up.

"Downside of that is, our enemies have leverage. Ross is going to go for us and possibly the team. We can't protect them from him even if we wanted to. Not here." She looks down at her shoes briefly. "I think that's where we got lucky with ourfriends; they're used to it and they know how to handle it."

She flicks her eyes up and catches his. He shrugs again, this time agreeing with her.

She steps into his personal space, so close she can feel the heat radiating off of him. Her fingers touch his chest, avoiding the bruise on his ribs and she tilts her head to make him look her in the eye, his face softening in wonder. His large fingers rest on her back.

"We pretty much fell apart when you were gone, only barely managing to hold it together to fight Thanos. We didn't live through that to let Ross tear us apart now."

He rears back to look at her. "Tasha can bring Banner back," he says softly.

"Are you sure?"

He nods once and her arms wind around his neck impulsively. His arms wrap around her to return her embrace, lifting her slightly from the ground so he doesn't have to awkwardly bow into the hug. She burrows into the green crook of his neck briefly enjoying the stronghold, feeling secure. She wishes they could stay like this for longer. "I won't let anyone hurt either of you," she promises before she utters the trigger to bring Bruce back to her.

The reaction is instantaneous as he begins to shrink while holding her in his arms. His body doesn't flinch or flail like usual, it's smooth and fluid as Bruce comes back to her. After a few minutes, his arms tighten around her, hanging on as his face drops to her shoulder and inhales deeply. "Nat," he breathes in a way only he can.

"Welcome back Bruce," and as relieved as she is to have him with her, she misses Hulk a little. Same as she misses Bruce when she's with the Big Guy.

Bruce steps back from her, cinching his torn trousers in his hand. Sighing at what he considers a cruel joke fate plays on him with each transformation, he looks at their hiding spot. "Where are we?"

"I don't know," Natasha answers. "There's a house too. It's boarded up." She lets her eyes wander down his chest. "Not that I mind the view, it could be a good place to check for spare clothes."

Natasha turns away as he mumbles about it being gratuitous and unnecessary. She starts toward the exit only to stop when she sees the shadow in the doorway. Bruce is already stepping between her and the shadow as she draws her gun. The figure moves, a hand held up. "Don't go green, it's just the cavalry."

Barton steps into the light, his bow dropping to his side.

"Hey partner," he directs at Natasha. "I was just starting to like retirement; do you think you could stay out of trouble for a day or two?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Author Note – Heartfelt thanks to my beta, Black' Victor Cachat for not giving up on this and for ideas and points that made this so much better than it originally was. Endgame killed my muse for this story and it's been a struggle to find it again but finally…**

From the Ashes – chapter eleven

" _There is no fire like passion, there is no shark like hatred, there is no snare like folly, there is no torrent like greed." Siddharta Gautama_

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 _He reads the words over and over again until they begin to bleed together. He swipes the screen to read the next report. The lamp on his desk doesn't help matters, with the glare it casts over the tablet. Fortunately, he's finally found the connection he thinks he's been looking for. Nothing explicit but his boss will find the pattern important. It fits with what they've witnessed so far._

 _He sighs silently as he looks up at his boss pacing on the far side of the room, while he talks to the President via video link._

" _He's a free man, Ross," the President breathes out with great restraint. There's a vein that keeps pulsing on Ross's neck in answer. "As free as the rest of them."_

" _They aren't telling us the whole truth. They got that thing to work with them and they've never said how. Nick Fury..."_

" _Managed to succeed where you failed," the President points out. "He's a people person," he taunts. "What does it matter? It's a viable success, why mess with it?"_

" _Because we need more Hulk's to fight this war."_

" _What war? Half the world was wiped out, we were annihilated. We are fighting to keep the peace with our own civilisation which, if it hasn't escaped your notice, is on the verge of collapse." Ross tries to butt in only for the President to cut him off. "The Avengers have pulled off some crazy stunts in the past but they couldn't take this guy out. They tried and we thanked them for it. We're no match for anyone with that kind of power. I'm not going to refuse their input or sanction anything to discourage it, they have first-hand knowledge of what we need for anything resembling defence systems. The best we can do is stay out of their way and rebuild our world, protect it and basic amenities like the food chain. Creating more Hulk's isn't going to achieve that."_

" _What happens when that purple bastard comes for the rest of us?"_

" _We fight with everything we have. But till then, I'm being realistic, Ross," his commander-and-chief bites back. "To that end, we need their cooperation. Going off half-cocked will destroy the little trust we managed to rebuild since your debacle of the Accords."_

 _Ross shakes his head minutely. The President eagerly signed the Accords following the disaster in Sokovia, ready to sacrifice the Avengers to save America's political image and relationships. He willingly went along with the public's outcry for some accountability. Ross's motives were personal, yet he never lied about them, nor changed them for his personal gain. From the get-go, Ross understood he would take the fall for the Accords. Planning for this betrayal by the President and his associates, Ross put contingencies in place which, admittedly, weren't as solid or flaw-proof as he'd like._

 _His team were men chosen by Saunders. Ross had never met them personally; plausible deniability, his assistant called it. Their base, a small refurbished seized HYDRA cache for vehicles and weapons, was basic compared to the Facility. In all fairness, Ross preferred it in a sentimental way –the layout he'd seen on the blueprints reminded him of his old barracks. A central position in the city gave them easy access and deployment, although it wasn't enough to hold any of the Avengers, let alone the Hulk. He had a second facility for that and it was difficult to procure without a paper trail._

" _Look, Stark is back on board," the President continues with a pacifying tone when Ross remains silent. "He built that Hulkbuster which gave Banner the run around in Johannesburg, he can make more. Don't risk alienating all of them because of your fixation on Banner. Your daughter forgave him," he points out._

 _Something inside of Ross snaps, and he opens his mouth, his rebuke is on the tip of his tongue, except the President cuts him off._

" _Save it! You made a mess, and you're making a bigger mess now. Bigger than anything the Hulk has ever done. Just hope you're not caught in his path when you finally push him over the edge."_

 _Without another word, the screen blinks off. Ross stands there, hands on the belt of his trousers, the back of his jacket splayed behind his arms, breathing deeply. He is sick and tired of being patronised, blamed and dismissed. No one comprehends the threat these freaks, these aliens, pose to the world as he does. Anger radiates from his defensive position, yet his assistant inches toward him anyway._

" _Sir," he clears his throat. Ross grunts and turns his head yet doesn't look up. "I think I found the link you were looking for." He holds out the tablet. Ross snatches it, eyes trailing across the screen. "In almost all field operations, Agent Romanoff was sent to retrieve Doctor Banner after a 'Code: Green.' Even when Thor was available."_

 _Ross huffs and swipes through the rest of the folder on the mission he's reading about. He accesses another mission folder and the assistant resists the urge to bounce on his feet as Ross looks through it. Eventually, he comes to a decision._

" _I've read enough, bring them in," Ross orders shutting the tablet down._

" _But the President said…"_

" _I don't care what the President said, bring them in."_

Ross snaps back to the present as lightning flashes across the sky. Flying through the thick, dark clouds to shield their approach. Wind and air howl around them, and the only way Ross can communicate with the pilot or the team is through the headset covering his ears. In the back, six men check their gear and pull balaclavas over their faces to shield their identity. They check their customised guns which fire smaller syringes on auto-fire, securing them with the clip on their uniform. Each is filled with enough tranquillizer to take down an elephant, if the syringes don't pierce the Hulk's thick skin, it can be absorbed by it. Ross knows each member of the squad has other weapons concealed on them, bullets aren't enough for this mission. If Romanoff gets in the way, they have a choice between using a bullet or syringe for her.

Beside him, the pilot signals him on their timing. Five fingers.

Through the screen, Ross sees the jet flying below them. He nods back at his team leader who slides the hatch open. "Bring them in."

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"Where'd you get the jet?" Bruce asks, emerging from the back of the jet. He finishes buckling his belt and drops his shirt over it.

"Wait till you get a big shed and see what Fury asks you to stash in it," Barton wryly shoots back, as he holds the jet steady in the intensifying winds. Sensing Bruce's frown, Barton takes pity on him. "He has stuff stashed all over the country for emergencies. You're privileged when you're in the know."

When he looks again, he finds the doctor with a curious expression. Then he thinks about it, shrugs, and squints and adjusts the glasses on his nose. Barton questioned Laura when she had appeared with a duffel full of clothes just before take-off. He'd already stowed his gear. " _For Doctor Banner",_ is all his wife had said. He swears she is one step ahead of all of them. The last thing any of them need is an eyeful of Banner's behind, especially if they're going to be stuck in the jet for a couple of hours.

"How did you find us?" Is Banner's next abrupt question.

Barton gives Natasha a sideways glance as she's perched in the co-pilot's chair, but she doesn't seem to hold Banner's curiosity with his sudden appearance. He wonders if there's something he's missing. After he found them in the barn, they boarded the jet swiftly, eager to escape the moment he clearly interrupted.

"Fury filled me in, said you might need a lift. The destination is your choice." He looks between them again. His answer doesn't satisfy either of them. "There was a tracker in the lining of the bags, I followed it to the last known location, and found a burnt-out diner. The trees gave you cover and the Big Guy's path was difficult to track from overhead, but I managed to catch a quick moment about a mile away from the farm. I had to do a second pass of that place to get a read with the thermal scanner before taking a chance and landing." His codename is Hawkeye after all.

"Did you notice anyone else tracking us?" Nat wonders.

"No," Barton shrugs. "I was cloaked, and nothing showed up on the systems. Looks like Ross was only been able to mobilise a single ground team. That being said, he's moving faster than Fury anticipated." He waits for a beat. "We could head home," he offers.

Nat hasn't seen Laura and the kids for a while, they always manage to ground her and put everything into perspective. Seems like she needs grounding whether she admits it or not. Banner too.

"No."

"No."

She and Banner echo at the same time. The pair share a quick glance, and Barton can see the silent debate. He and Nat managed to cultivate it after years of partnership, and he's pretty certain he knows their reasons are the same as his for avoiding his home and family.

"It'll be the first place Ross'll look," Nat explains. "It's not off the grid anymore."

His house arrest put his farm on the map. A team could be on its way to the house right now. He isn't concerned. He wasn't idle in his year at home. He was able to experience the life he missed on missions. He kept busy and worked around constant intrusions. He found camera blind spots, and while he avoided them, the kids and Laura didn't have to. They know where the traps are to take out whoever invades their home, and which escape routes will prevent anyone from following them.

"Seeing as I was outvoted when it came to keeping this between me and Ross," Bruce drawls sarcastically. Nat raises an eyebrow. "I'm over it," he appeases her. "But we should talk to Ross."

"That's like talking to a brick wall," Barton shakes his head.

"I'd like to shove him into a brick wall," Nat quips. Banner gives her another look, while sympathetic not encouraging either. "What's your plan?"

"Play to your strengths," Bruce gestures at her. "The only way we will know what he has planned is by talking to him. How many interrogations have you done where you get your captors to do all the talking?"

The question is rhetorical. A plan to face Ross head-on is the last thing Barton expected Banner to come out with. Since Ross will expect him to keep running, the element of surprise will be valuable. While being backed into a corner isn't the greatest idea, if anyone can make it work, Nat can. "We let him come to us."

"To me," Bruce corrects. "Ross will leave you alone once—"

"No," she counters. Nat pierces him with her eyes, narrowing like she's closing in on her mark. To Barton's surprise, Banner doesn't wither away as so many others have in the past.

"He doesn't know about the Lullaby, and I'd like to keep it that way," the scientist explains. Nat blinks. "What?"

"I threatened the Big Guy with a Lullaby outside the diner," Nat admits without missing a beat or altering her tone. She doesn't sugar coat for those she respects or cares for. "They had a camera; I don't know about audio."

In one movement, Banner's glasses slide from his nose into his hand as he starts pacing. It'd impress Barton if he wasn't worried the stress would trigger a transformation. In the years he's known the Doc, Barton still isn't quite sure on the guy's handle. Banner pinches the bridge of his nose with his other hand.

"We talked about this," Banner stresses out in Natasha's direction from the other side of the plane, without looking at her.

"What would've happened if the Big Guy took that squad out? Ross would have a field day with the footage."

"Ross'll be curious because of that footage. He'll figure it out and he'll want you too."

"No, he won't. Big Guy refused to co-operate," Natasha interjects. Banner turns sharply toward her. "He was fine. He couldn't resist whatever drug they gave you to trigger the transformation," she adds to appease Banner. "He's fine," she insists softly.

Barton feels the energy shift to something private he has no insight into. So he turns away from them to get back to keeping his eyes on the darkening clouds through the windshield as he listens. He should really focus on flying rather than looking over his shoulder at them while relying on sensors guiding the jet.

"He's got some injuries though," Natasha explains.

"He has?"

"A bruise just under his ribs." She lifts out of the chair and steps closer to Banner. Barton tracks her in his peripheral, curious about the Big Guy's injuries as well. She stops a foot from the doctor and her hand rising to his chest without permission. Her fingers prod checking for wounds. "You feel that?"

"Ugh, a little tender," Banner croaks out, shifting out of reach of her prodding hands. Barton feels for the guy. Natasha is intense at the best of times, but when she's showing concern for someone she cares about, it's something to behold.

"What about your ankle?"

Barton hears the rustle of fabric yet refuses to look to see Banner lift both of his pant legs to expose the pale joints. "Why?" He asks.

"He had an old bite mark from before," she comments. The fabric lowers.

"The wolf?"

"You remember?"

"I remember a wolf and face planting the bridge on Asgard, I don't remember fighting it," Banner explains. "A little embarrassing." A beat. "That's beside the point, did he say why he isn't trying to take over?"

In the screen reflection, Barton catches the apologetic look from Natasha and a slight shake of her head. He won't take the news well in front of Barton. Sensing this isn't the time to get involved, Barton stays out of it. Obviously, they've already discussed Hulks' stage fright.

A sensor beeps on the panel in front of him. "Sorry to interrupt," Barton informs the couple without looking at them. "We've got heavy weather moving in, we have to make a decision whether we try and make a run for Wakanda, or wait it out."

Right now, he's flying aimlessly. They can't coast indefinitely. He'll need directions soon if they're not going to the Facility. At this rate, if they don't make up their minds, he's going to have to notify Stark to clear them when they hit the airspace above it. Air defences are as formidable as the ones on the ground. He doesn't fancy getting blown out of the sky or crash landing.

He has enough fuel to get them to Wakanda if necessary. Just in case, Fury sent word to Shuri. Unfortunately, only enough for a straight flight there, and not many places they could land to refill.

"Can you fly through it?" Banner asks.

"Yeah," Barton decides. "But so can Ross if he gets his hands on a jet."

Again, Banner looks to Nat for an answer. They have a few options. Banner has a point. They can't avoid Ross forever. Ross has pissed them all off before, yet it's personal with Banner. The guy won't quit, and Barton admires Banners' self-control. Barton never usually doubts Fury, but after the Accords, he would prefer a hands-on approach, because Ross won't understand anything else. Maybe a big, green fist to the face might hammer the point home.

"Our fight has nothing to do with Shuri. She has her own problems to deal with establishing herself with her people," Banner says clearing his throat. "We go to the Facility," he decides.

Nat releases a slow, measured breath at Banner's direction. It's the tiniest crack in her composure and the only one she'll allow them to see as she remains at Banner's side. Apart from the memorial, Barton hasn't seen her in two years.

He understands why it was important for her to keep running fighting for their rights, just like she understands why he had to stay with his family, their family. He knows they were never far from her thoughts because she wasn't far from theirs. The kids made her pictures and put them in her room for her to find when she finally came home. Lila would sit in there for hours and read the books they always read together at bedtime while Coop spent all day in the yard doing the flips Nat taught him. Nate, too young to remember his aunt, pestered his brother and sister for stories of the woman he was named after. Barton didn't miss Nat as much as he thought he would, he saw her every day through his children. That didn't mean he stopped worrying about her.

He understands why it was important for her to keep running –keep fighting— for their rights, just like she understands why he had to stay with his family. _Their_ family. He knows they were never far from her thoughts because she wasn't far from theirs. The kids made her pictures and put them in her room for her to find when she finally came home. Lila would sit in there for hours and read the books they always read together at bedtime, while Coop spent all day in the yard doing the flips Nat taught him. Nate, too young to remember his aunt, pestered his brother and sister for stories of the woman he was named after. Barton didn't miss Nat as much as he thought he would, he saw her every day through his children. That didn't mean he stopped worrying about her.

Natasha had been quiet after Sokovia. The change in dynamic from being just teammate to mentoring and fashioning a new team was a shift Nat had to get used to. Being a leader, she knew the work involved, the regime, how to utilise and hone the strengths of the new Avengers. The job was automatic and she could do it without thinking, instinctual, a reaction. It allowed her to focus without thinking about what and who she was missing. Barton was tempted to track Banner down to ask him what the hell he was thinking. But Nat could've done that herself, she didn't need him acting the protective big brother. The explanation might be two years late, but it was…reasonable. At least Nat seems to have accepted it easier than Banner has. Barton doubts the guy knows what he's in for now that Nat cares for him or how lucky he is. They're always going to argue about protecting the other from the ghosts of their past.

Because of this, Barton feels the need to interject. "Obviously Ross wants to bring you in. His problem will be keeping hold of you. Fury has Hill running down a list of facilities Ross could take you to," Barton offers. "She is tracking similar materials used for The Facility. It's one of the few places with a tank strong enough to hold the Big Guy. If Ross has approval from higher up he'd probably take you there, but he knows better than to try and hold you on our own turf."

With the wind whipping around the aircraft, they barely hear the dull thud of at the rear loading bay. On alert, Barton checks sensors and finds nothing. He readjusts the levels, yet it's no use as a pulse travels through the plane, knocking out the power and controls.

Immediately the plane begins to fall from the sky, and all Barton can do is guide the jet in the freefall. Nat and Banner are thrown into the windscreen by the momentum. The jet jolts suddenly, knocking them off of the dashboard and to the floor. They sprawl at his feet. Glancing at Nat, he sees her wince as she tries to regain some control. Checking Banner next, Barton watches him shake his head as he rolls his head with a groan. There's no hint of green in his skin or eyes, though his breathing is deep and laboured as if to combat a transformation. Semi-satisfied with their condition, Barton checks over his shoulder toward the rear of the jet, which is now hanging nose down, to see three hooks have punctured the loading doors. There are more punctures on the side, securing the hanging jet and them. Six more impacts follow but no more hooks.

The inside is pitch-black and the windscreen is at the wrong angle for any moonlight to aid his assessment of the situation. Unable to create a plan with his teammates without more information, he knows they can hold their own against whoever is hijacking them. He also knows Hulking out isn't the best option while they're dangling midair. He hits his seatbelt release to drop into the same position as Nat and Banner.

Seconds after the most recent impacts, an amber dot appears on the rear doors, and sparks follow as a laser cutter creates a circle in the metal.

Beside him, Natasha instinctively scans around her on the floor for something to use as a weapon. Her hand disappears into a compartment on the wall and emerges holding a knife and a fire extinguisher. She rolls the extinguisher at Banner. Barton finds his bow stashed under the dashboard but the pressure from the wind cabin will be too high to get off a clean shot once the hole is cut. If their assailants were closer, hand to hand combat would be an option. Barton doubts they'll have a chance to test that theory. Taking them out at a distance would be easier than giving them a chance to turn the tables.

He digs through his arrows to find a spool of wire. He ties it around the control stick and creates three loops to have something to secure themselves with. Once complete, he checks on the back of the jet which is now above them.

It flies off in a gust of wind revealing a covered assailant aiming his infra-red scope into the hull, landing briefly on the three of them as it sweeps the interior for others hanging on in the dark recesses. There's nowhere to hide, no real cover provided by the chairs or dashboard. Barton tracks the sweep. When it finishes the assailant straightens and refocuses on them.

He's still not giving up without a fight. Checking the base of the pilots' chair, he notes the cords and bolts and fuel pump. Looking over his shoulder he finds the eject button on the console. A long shot, the EMP knocked out the power. But he hopes the mechanism will still release the chair. He catches Banner's eye and looks between the chair and the console. The scientist follows his eyes and nods. They only have one shot. Together they push the chair as close to the floor as possible.

The wind whips around them, making it harder to hold the chair in place and reach the controls. Just as he's about to stretch backwards, Natasha moves into his focus and hits the button. The chair releases and he and Banner hold it steady for a second, trying to aim as much as possible before letting go. He and Banner grab onto the loops he created around the pilot's stick to anchor themselves as it sails up the cabin at with the momentum, flying through the hole and barely misses one of the retrieval team.

They don't have another chance to do anything as a masked agent reappears in the hole and fires their weapon into the jet. Six shots in total, each on target. A dart pierces Barton's neck and he yanks it out as quickly as he can, but the sedative is strong and fast-acting as he notices Natasha begin to lull toward him after she pulls her one dart out.

On his other side, Banner paws at the four which hit him, except they're already taking effect. Barton feels his body grow heavy as he sags against the floor. He barely has the strength to tilt his chin up to see their assailant – or another member of their team – dropping through the hole. He heads for Banner first. The last thing Barton sees is the doctor being given another, larger dose of sedative, before being put in a harness.


End file.
